


Wildflower

by beeftony



Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-05-09 04:17:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5525081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeftony/pseuds/beeftony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The rules of Kim's world change seemingly overnight, and it all hinges on the first time Ron had to save the day without her. After circumstances force Team Possible apart, Ron must team up with his greatest enemy to save the world from destruction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Before reading this story, look a little further down my page to read a story called Let It Shine. It's not strictly required, but it lends some helpful background information.

A fist rocketed through the space her head had occupied only a second ago, tagging a few strands of long red hair. Kim Possible bobbed quickly under the roundhouse that followed, then cartwheeled to the side as her opponent leaned sideways and thrust both his fists in her direction.

He was after her in an instant, lashing out with a flying spin kick that barely missed her nose. Again she weaved sideways, avoiding the blow entirely rather than attempting to parry. He landed, then flipped forward, spinning inverted on his hands like a top while striking out once again with his legs. Kim rolled to the side, having learned early on in the fight that trying to block the surprisingly powerful strikes sent her way resulted in painful impacts that would leave some nasty bruises.

But she wasn't hitting back.

"Jesus, Ron! Snap out of it!"

Ron Stoppable, her best friend since Pre-Kindergarten and steadfast mission partner, had gone completely berserk. His warm brown pupils had been replaced entirely by an eerie blue glow, and he had been attacking her like a man possessed for the last two minutes straight. It had, to make a massive understatement, completely thrown her off her game.

He was coming at her with a wide variety of martial arts styles, as opposed to the Monkey Kung Fu she had expected. His movements weren't terribly focused or skilled, driven instead by some raw animal fury. His technique was by no means poor, but it was disjointed and random and sacrificed control in favor of overwhelming power. He leapt into the air, tracing his leg through a long, curving arc that descended with terrifying speed, shattering the stone floor of the ancient temple when it impacted.

It nearly distracted her. A move that powerful could cripple its user if performed incorrectly, but he pulled it off with no effort at all, transitioning with a quick roll into a rising knee that she sidestepped just in time. Another roundhouse pursued her, and with nowhere to dodge she threw up her left arm and braced herself.

The impact hurt, and her feet skidded a few inches, but she held her ground. He jumped again, lower this time, spinning in mid-air and aiming a kick at her midriff. She twirled away, arms outstretched to stabilize herself. He grabbed a protruding stone as he landed and used it to quickly change direction and come after her again.

The sheer variety of techniques on display would have overwhelmed anyone who was not well-versed in sixteen styles of Kung Fu, but even with her knowledge and experience, the fact remained that her opponent was performing at a level that went beyond human. She had been on the defensive since the beginning, and had yet to land a single blow.

She had handled superpowers before, though. This was the most important person in her life, and she found it difficult to strike at him even if he was doing his best to maul her.

This meant that she was providing him plenty of openings, and he did not hesitate to exploit them. His boot landed hard against her ribs, bruising at least three. She wrapped her arm around his leg as tightly as she could, but he only used that to plant his other foot square in her chest, driving her back. He backflipped and landed on his feet.

A tornado kick followed, arcing down towards her neck. She ducked to the side just in time to avoid having her collarbone shattered. Raising her arms, she blocked the fist that was thrown her way, but was not quick enough to stop him from kicking out the small of her knee, forcing her to kneel before he spun around and drove his knee directly into her face.

As time slowed, Kim reflected on how she hated that tingling feeling of something hard smashing into her nose. There was a sharp crunch, and blood erupted from the wound just as the world caught up to her again.

He continued the assault, balling her hair in his fist before smashing her face hard against the ground once, twice, and then a third time for good measure. The blood reached her throat and her body found it hard to breathe, producing a strained gurgle instead before she spat out the viscous red liquid. Grabbing the back of her shirt, Ron heaved her in an arc above his head before planting a foot in her back, which sent her flying across the room.

' _Ow_ ,' thought Kim as soon as she managed to stand. None of her fights had ever gone like this before. Normally there was playful banter, a few blows exchanged, and an exploding doomsday device or ancient artifact that broke up the battle before it ever got to the point of drawing blood or breaking bones. This was different.

What the hell was going on with Ron anyway? She remembered a few things, despite the adrenaline haze. An artifact. A prophecy. The Mystical Monkey Power. That must be what was controlling him.

It was doing an excellent job, too. Ordinarily she could trounce Ron without even standing up, but he was keeping her off balance and dismantling all of her attempts to counterattack. At the same time, he was using techniques that definitely did not fit under the Tai Sheng Pek Kwar umbrella. He switched between wildly disparate styles with such speed and fluidity that it was all she could do just to keep up.

She searched around for any sort of environmental clutter she could use to tip the scales in her favor. There were a few pillars to hide behind, but for the most part the room was vast and empty. At one end of the extremely large chamber was a balcony overlooking the misty jungle below. Vines covered the hard stone walls, sliding between the grooves of the ancient bricks and causing them to loosen.

There was also her utility belt to consider. Taking a mental inventory, she remembered packing her laser lipstick, grappling gun, and some smoke pellets. She could not see many applications for them in her current environment, but without them this would just be a straight out slugfest, and Kim had to admit that she had never excelled at those. But she would have to make do.

Gritting her teeth, Kim grabbed her broken nose and snapped the cartilage back into place with a sickening crunch. It hurt like hell, but so did everything else, so she found it hard to complain. Snorting the blood into her mouth, she spat it out on the floor of the ancient temple.

"Okay, _bring it_."

He brought it, sailing across the room in an impossibly fast run before diving forward into a handspring and propelling himself feet first towards her like a human missile. She cartwheeled out of the way and he impacted the wall instead, forming a crater that splintered outward in a spider-web of fractures before dismounting with a quick side flip and running after her again.

She ducked under a frighteningly quick reverse roundhouse, then had to bob rapidly from side to side to avoid the flurry of punches that followed. Her bruised ribs protested, distracting her just long enough for one punch to find its mark, nailing her hard in the solar plexus. His body slithered smoothly through her defenses, filling in the gap between them as he clutched his hand around her throat and lifted her off her feet before choke-slamming her into the floor.

He drew back his fist and aimed it at her face, but she was already rolling out of the way, and it shattered stone instead. Again, his blows were inhumanly powerful but did not seem to damage a form that appeared less durable than rock. Whatever force now possessed him, it had clearly rendered him superhuman.

As soon as she was back on her feet, Ron closed the distance once more with a flying elbow that smashed hard against the forearm that she barely raised in time to block it. Again he launched a relentless barrage of punches, which she batted to the side instead of blocking directly. She saw an opening and lashed out with a strike of her own, but his body reacted like quicksilver, grabbing her wrist and tugging her closer, where he elbowed her in the forehead.

He shoved her back with two palms to the chest, then batted both her arms to the side as she tried to counter. Clutching her forearms, he yanked her forward and headbutted her. He chased her with a kick as she stumbled, but she recovered her balance just in time to catch his foot and twist. His entire body followed, and he countered by sending his other foot towards her head. She dipped slightly backwards, and he landed on his hands, then rolled to a standing position.

Kim pressed her advantage, knowing that she was unlikely to gain another opening any time soon. Attacking with her own flurry of punches and kicks, she managed to drive him back a little. Still, even as she assaulted him relentlessly, his defenses never showed the slightest sign of faltering. Every punch was deflected, every kick parried. She would have relished the challenge if she wasn't fighting for her life.

She upped the intensity of her attacks, and he continued to casually swat her fists aside. She had long since drenched her mission top in sweat, while he was still impossibly fresh. Kim continued to hammer him until she was holding nothing back, and it still wasn't good enough. Then, inevitably, she left him an opening.

Lancing through her furious swipes, his foot struck her in the chest, and even as time slowed to a crawl, he set upon her with impossible speed. Grabbing her shoulders, he drove a knee into her stomach before headbutting her and striking her gut again with a front kick. As her body reeled from the impact, he tilted his body slightly to the left, then spun once and lashed out with an elbow that struck her in the face.

She continued to stagger back, and he twirled on the ball of his foot, landing a kick that made her double over, after which he kneed her in the chest while driving his elbow hard between her shoulder blades, then stepped back while she flopped to the floor once again.

Okay, this wasn't working.

Somersaulting forward, Kim rose to her feet and glared hard. It was time to accept reality. As much as she wished it were otherwise, Ron was trying to kill her. Not that her villains hadn't all tried the same thing many times over the years, but with them it was always done in such a way that she was allowed enough time to figure her way out of an elaborate deathtrap, and even the ones who did fight her hand to hand never really seemed out for blood. If she didn't start fighting back, with everything she had, she may not live to do so another day.

Time to go on the offensive.

She made the first move this time, leaping forward and spinning with a slight tilt. She swung out with her fist at the end of the third rotation, only to strike air. She ducked under a roundhouse that came from behind, then rose and swept her legs in front of his face in a high, spinning arc as she circled to his right. He leaned back, and she struck out with a side kick.

Pivoting, he tucked her leg under one arm and grabbed her shirt with the other, hurling her across the room. She curled her body into a ball and flipped, rebounding off the wall. Still in midair, she turned around and produced her grappling hook pistol while upside down, burying it inside a fissure between two bricks. She maintained her hold on the grapple and landed in a forward roll.

His fist was waiting for her, and she caught it with her free hand, then swung his arm behind his back before kicking just above his tailbone, which sent him stumbling forward. She ran quickly around one of the pillars and pulled the trigger, at which point the motor that was powerful enough to pull her up the side of a building kicked in. She pushed hard against the pillar with her legs, affording her enough leverage to pull a few bricks out of the wall and send them sailing towards him.

The rocks smacked into him harder than her fists had any hope of doing, and succeeded in knocking him off his feet, if only for a moment. She retracted the grapple and produced her laser lipstick, aiming it at a few weak points in the wall behind him that she had not dislodged the first time, then readied her grapple again.

Burying the hook into the wall, she pulled the trigger again just as he stood, and let the winding cord carry her forward to kick him in the chest with both feet, which sent both of them crashing into the wall. The bricks collapsed, burying him in the rubble.

"Gadgets save the day again," she said with satisfaction as she retracted the grapple. "Now what to do about—"

A palm struck her solar plexus, and time stood still as the air left her lungs in one long whoosh. It had happened so quickly she didn't even remember him getting back up. She lost the grapple and the laser lipstick as she flew back several feet, behind the pillar she had used as leverage earlier. She coughed and sputtered, struggling to regain her breath as Ron stalked closer.

Kim scrambled to her feet as he rounded the pillar, narrowly avoiding a kick to the face as she leaned back. She dropped a smoke pellet between them, then reappeared behind him with her fist held high.

He threw up his forearms, stopping her punch cold. He lashed out with a front kick, which she hopped quickly to the side to avoid. She punched at him again, and as his left arm rose to block, she opened her hand and grabbed him by the wrist. Moving quickly, she jumped and wrapped her legs around his neck, spinning around his head twice before dismounting, hooking her arm around his neck and sending him to the ground with so much force that he bounced.

Kim stood and brought her foot over her head, bringing her heel down towards him. Rising into a crouch, he stopped her leg at the calf, then rose quickly enough that she lost her footing. She flipped once, and he kicked her in the stomach before she hit the ground, slamming her into the wall. He surged forward and drew back his arm.

She ducked, and his fist made the wall shudder. She tried to sweep his feet but he jumped over her leg and spun, lashing out with a powerful kick as she rose. It nearly knocked the wind out of her again, and while she was stunned he turned away, reached back, grabbed the front of her shirt and yanked her body in an arc over his head. She stretched out her hands to avoid cracking her skull on the stone floor, handspringing a few meters away.

He pursued her, and as she fought off the latest barrage of punches Kim felt fatigue beginning to set in. Her fights rarely lasted this long, and they were _never_ this brutal. It felt as though somebody had changed the rules of the universe when she hadn't been paying attention. Her mind kept returning to the fact that this was not how Ron normally fought. But someone else was in control now, and they knew a wide enough variety of martial arts to keep her guessing.

Well, two could play at that game.

Batting a punch to the side, Kim struck his jaw simultaneously with the back of her wrist using a Southern Praying Mantis move, momentarily stunning him. She peppered his chest with a furious volley of strikes, dipping into her limited knowledge of Wing Chun to string together a chain punch. While he was reeling from that, she planted herself in a low stance and threw her full weight behind a straight punch in a Hung Gar technique. Finally she jumped into the air and spun quickly, striking his temple with her heel and giving him a taste of the Northern Shaolin style.

As he continued to stumble backwards, she launched a good old fashioned haymaker at him, hoping to at least knock him to the ground. He recovered too quickly, however, and caught her fist in his palm. He squeezed, and she felt her knuckles start to pop.

Grabbing her upper arm with his other hand, he twirled her around to try and smash her face against the wall, but her feet got there first and she ran vertically before backflipping. He maintained his grip on her arm, twisting it clockwise while her body rotated in the opposite direction. She heard her shoulder pop before she felt it, and then came the pain.

Still holding her arm, he pivoted slightly and drove his palm hard into the back of her elbow, bending it in a direction not intended by nature. Kim screamed so hard that her throat refused to produce sound.

Her left arm was still functional, and with all her other gadgets depleted she retrieved some makeup powder from her pocket and threw it in his face. It wasn't knockout powder, and she'd definitely need to talk to Wade about that, but it distracted him long enough for her to put some distance between them. Adrenaline stampeded through her veins, blocking out the worst of the pain and giving her just enough strength to survive as her opponent continued his onslaught.

A fist streaked towards her like a comet, and she weaved out of the way. He somersaulted and launched himself into a kick with his leg extended forward, which she barely dodged in time. Bounding off the wall, he cannonballed back in her direction.

She was ready for him, twirling to the side and striking out with a powerful kick, which he parried almost dismissively. She lashed out with a left, which was deflected with equal ease. Trying one last desperation tactic, she hopped into the air and struck out at his chest with both feet.

Grabbing her ankles, he hammer-tossed her across the room, where she somehow rolled to a standing position once again.

He was already there, and subjected her to a ruthless volley of punches that she had to struggle to deflect or avoid with only one arm still working. One found its mark, breaking her nose all over again. She staggered backwards, unable to stop the follow up kick to her chest. While she was still off balance, he clutched her by the shoulder and drove his knee into her solar plexus before grabbing her good arm and spinning her around, dashing her head against the wall.

A punch landed squarely in her gut, followed by another, then another, then an elbow to the face, a knee to the sternum, and a fist on either ear. He worked her stunned body like a practice dummy before punching her once again in the nose, which by now was dribbling blood all over her black mission top. Her skull smacked hard against the stone, and then the room started to wobble.

"Oooohhhhhh..." she groaned, completely missing the hands that grabbed her shirt and hurled her in the other direction, where she tumbled along the ground before landing in a heap.

' _That went well_ ,' she remarked to herself. He walked slowly towards her, giving her just enough time to remember things like how not to get killed like a chump.

Rolling again so that he didn't stomp on her head, Kim rose with considerably more effort than she would have liked. Time to try a new strategy. She had been the only one to speak since the fight began, and had not gotten a reaction out of him yet, but if she could not best him physically, she could at least try getting through to him with words, one more time.

Unfortunately, the beatdown she had just suffered made talking her way out of this just shy of impossible. She wanted to tell him to stop, that she would no longer fight him, but her mouth refused to cooperate. She only managed to wheeze out a single word:

"Ron..."

There was no answer. She would have had better luck appealing to the bricks. He stood menacingly, his glowing eyes blue and unfeeling, then kicked her into the wall.


	2. Paradigm Shift

Shego idly contemplated how large of a riot she'd have to incite to earn a stay in solitary instead of being forced to share her cell with quite possibly the most annoying bunkmate on earth. The woman in the cot opposite her had been peppering the word "freaky!" into nearly every conversation to the point where she had tried to shut her up by asking how freaky it would be if she ripped off her arm, shoved it where the sun didn't shine, then reached down her throat to shake her hand.

" _Super_ freaky!" had been the reply. She suspected that this woman may harbor a few fetishes.

With that in mind, she had hogtied the former reality tv star known as Adrenna Lynn with her own bed sheets and gagged her with a pillowcase. It might have afforded her a little peace and quiet if the woman hadn't insisted on grunting and moaning.

"Now now, the more you struggle, the tighter the knots are gonna get. I won't be held responsible if your hands and feet fall off."

"Mmmph!"

"Of course, if that isn't doing it for you, I can think of a few ways we could _turn up the heat_ ," she threatened, encasing her hand in the Go Team Glow. Lynn turned deathly still. "That's more like it."

Shego should not have been in a general population prison at all, even one that had been specifically constructed to house members of the villain community. Drakken's last major scheme had brought them closer to world domination than ever before, which had to be at least an act of terrorism in the countries where the Diablos had been activated, and treason in the United States where Drakken held citizenship, which was normally punished far more severely than a little prison time. Not that she was complaining.

It was no big secret that they owed this relative lenience to the public perception of villainy. People weren't irrationally frightened of them like the faceless terrorists from Wherever-stan that the news media liked to blame for all their problems. If anything, people seemed to underestimate just how much of a threat they posed when they had teen heroes like Kim Possible around to foil them just before things got truly dangerous.

In fact, thanks to Kim, few people even paid attention to supervillains at all. If they were a problem that the worldwide law enforcement community felt comfortable outsourcing to a teenager, even an incredibly talented one, then how big of a threat were they, really?

Had she ever really gotten anywhere following Drakken? Sure, it was a nice paycheck, and she got to see the world, but she always ended up right back here, in a cell just like this one. Nothing he built ever worked, and every single one of his plans always failed in the end.

She didn't always mind it, though. It was a comfortable little rut of mediocrity, one where she got to experience all the fun of trying to take over the world, always secure in the knowledge that she would never have to see its aftermath, because what were the chances of it working this time? She'd never have to experience the bureaucratic nightmare of actually ruling anything, because Kimmie would always come along just in time to stop it. She could just repeat the same pattern over and over again for as long as she liked. It had all become a game.

But after what happened to land her here, the game no longer seemed very fun.

From the start, it was unlike any scheme Drakken had ever concocted. He kept her out of the loop for most of it, and it came closer to working than ever before. The stakes were higher, the action was grander, and something had... changed between her and Kim. That much had become clear when the perky do-gooder cheerleader dropped all pretenses of professional rivalry and kicked her into a signal tower in the middle of a thunderstorm.

Over a boy.

A boy who wasn't even real, just another cog in Drakken's machine. He was there to demoralize her; to emotionally wound the young heroine so much that she would be off her game just enough for Drakken's plan to actually work. And it nearly did, except for one thing.

Tying up Stoppable next to Kim in that Bueno Nacho storage room had barely registered at the time. Kim was always the real threat, and there was little damage that he could actually do. At least everybody thought that way, until the plan unraveled before their very eyes and they realized that Ron Stoppable had been allowed to ruin it all by virtue of being overlooked. It was a mistake she and Drakken had made too many times.

What had been their undoing this time was his unfailing ability to be there as emotional support just when Possible needed it most. And Kim had never needed it more than that night, when Drakken specifically targeted the insecure teenage girl rather than the unstoppable hero.

Taking that into account, it wasn't really fair to blame Kim for reacting the way she did, especially after she had threatened to steal Erik for herself.

No, she blamed Drakken for changing the rules of the game they were playing. It was never supposed to get so personal.

She was done with Drakken. She was done with the game. She wanted to try something different.

This would normally be the part where that something different arrived to bust her out of her cell, but she could never trust the timing of those things. So she had made arrangements for it to happen earlier in the week. It was due any minute now.

Right on cue, a pair of earmuffs dropped through the bars of the window, and Shego quickly put them on. Lynn's eyes widened with fear, but screw her ears.

An inhumanly loud screeching echoed through the prison moments later, causing Lynn to thrash about in pain. Shego could hear it through the earmuffs, and had she not been wearing them her reaction would likely be the same. Sighing, she stuffed a smaller pair of earplugs into the other woman's ears before flaring up her glow and busting down the door.

The guards outside were writhing on the floor, and Shego barely paid them any mind as she proceeded to calmly walk towards the rendezvous point.

' _Time to meet the new boss_ ,' she thought, excited about starting new work for the first time in a long while.

* * *

**Chapter One  
** Paradigm Shift

* * *

"Didn't there used to be a bus on this street?" Ron complained loudly as he and Kim trudged along the sidewalk. Well, _he_ trudged, anyway.

"Didn't you stop riding it when you got your scooter?"

"Well, after your brothers made those modifications to it, it wouldn't even start the next day," he said, then started listing off items with his fingers. "The tires were melted, the drive train was completely worn out, and the engine is pretty much toast."

She put a hand to her mouth and chuckled. "Who knew a bargain basement scooter wasn't intended as a high performance vehicle?"

"Yeah, but we saved the day with it, so it didn't die in vain."

"May it rest in peace," Kim intoned solemnly, holding a hand over her heart. "But seriously, you're averaging about the same speed by walking, _and_ getting better exercise."

"I get plenty of exercise doing other stuff." He pouted and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "That scooter was my ticket to the open road. When I was on that bad boy, I felt like I had the whole blacktop to myself."

"That's because everybody else already passed you."

"Regardless, now that we're seniors we should seriously look into getting some wheels. Doesn't your dad still have that old car?"

"The Sloth?" She stuck out her tongue and mimed sticking a finger down her throat. "As _if_. If it's between that and walking, I'll take the sidewalk."

"Fair, but my vehicle already paid the ultimate price and it's not like my 'rents are gonna fork over the dough for a new one."

"You know, you should really find out if Bueno Nacho ever sent you any more of those royalty checks. You could buy an entire garage."

"Well, the original check was to buy the trademark outright, and after Drakken used the company as a front for a world domination scheme their assets have been frozen and their stock's in the toilet. We'll be lucky if there's even a Bueno Nacho to eat at anymore."

"Really? I don't remember that."

"You don't remember? I called you three months ago in total meltdown mode!"

" _That's_ what you were freaking about? I couldn't even make out what you were saying."

"Don't you watch the news? Or think about how we haven't eaten there since before prom?"

She blushed. "Not really; I was kinda busy helping repair the house and going to fancier places for our dates. I guess I just didn't think about it that much."

"Kim, I say this with love, but you really need to be more observant."

"Well, it's a shame. It was like a second home to us."

"I've had all summer to mourn, KP. Rufus is taking it harder than I am."

Rufus stuck his head out of Ron's pocket just long enough to hang his head sadly and whine.

Kim patted the top of the naked mole rat's head. "There there, Rufus. I'm sure we can find another place that serves cheap, ferociously unhealthy fast food."

He appeared slightly mollified, but still frowned and retreated back into Ron's pocket.

"Anyway, walking to school's not that bad. It's only a couple miles. Driving would be _so_ unnecessary."

"Tell that to Bonnie," he said flatly, gesturing to a sleek white convertible that slowed down next to them, as if summoned by Kim's remark.

"Hey losers," Bonnie Rockwaller sneered from the driver's seat. "How do you like my new ride?"

"Looks great; I'm sure you'll make a very good trophy wife someday," said Kim. "Gift from your dad?"

"Yep. Just for being me." She ran a hand through her hair. "I'd love to stay and talk, but I'll be late for class."

"Yeah, that and you're jamming up the road," said Ron, pointing to the multitude of cars honking behind her.

"Whatever. Later, dweebs." Her tires screeched and the car rocketed off along the road until it was out of sight.

"Is it just me or does she not bother you that much anymore?" he asked once they could no longer see her.

Kim shrugged. "I guess I've just shifted my priorities a bit. Besides, after the way she got humiliated at prom, I think she's paid enough."

"Yeah, even Brick didn't line up behind her when she tried that stunt. Talk about not knowing your audience."

"I'm betting the car is just her way of coping."

"Even still, she has a car and neither of us do. And with Bueno Nacho out of the picture we're gonna have to start going further to find good chow."

"Need I remind you that you had all summer to look for a job and you spent it trying to mod zombies into Everlot?" Kim shook her head, then put a finger to her chin and looked contemplative. "Although it kept Cousin Larry away from me, so I guess I should thank you for that."

"I keep telling you, Kim; Larry's a cool guy. Even Zita and Felix don't operate on the hardcore gamer level this guy does."

Kim raised an extremely skeptical eyebrow. "And that's supposed to endear him to me?"

"Well, you have to admit, he _was_ pretty helpful when you left me to face Monkey Fist with the holo-Kim."

"Okay, we didn't _know_ he went by Monkey Fist until you got there, and Wade's the one who wanted to test the holo-tech so bad he put that mission together without even telling me."

Ron nodded. "Fair point, fair point. But without Larry inspiring me to absorb the Mystical Monkey Power to become what I feared most, I never would have made it out of there alive."

"Speaking of which, did you ever find out exactly how the MMP's supposed to work? First you tell me it just went away when the monkey idols were destroyed, and the next thing I know you're going to secret ninja schools in Japan and wielding mystical swords."

He shrugged. "Ya got me, Kim. It comes and goes. I try not to think about it too much."

"On account of the sick and wrong factor?"

"Got it in one."

"You're gonna have to get over your monkey issues eventually, you know." They crested the final hill overlooking Middleton High, where they could see Bonnie struggling to find a parking space in the surprisingly full lot.

"Maybe someday," he said. "But I wouldn't count on it happening until at least after college."

A mysterious wind blew across the sidewalk, and both of them stopped walking for a moment.

"You know that part in movies where you catch a line of foreshadowing and it sends a chill down your spine?"

"Yeah..." She combed a hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear. "Why, you ever feel that in real life?"

"Nope," he answered quickly, then started walking faster down the sidewalk.

* * *

"Lunch time!" Ron shouted ecstatically as he, Kim and Monique exited their fourth period World History class. "Make way, seniors comin' through!"

"Someone's excited to see this year's mystery meat," remarked Monique.

"Actually, this year we don't have to eat the mystery meat," he corrected, turning around and raising a finger while still moving in the general direction of the cafeteria. "Because this year, we have access to something we were denied all this time."

He puffed up his chest dramatically. "That's right, ladies: I'm talking about the senior table!"

"He's been hyping it all summer," Kim explained with a hint of exasperation.

"Well, you gotta admit Kim; the seniors do eat like kings."

"And now that privilege is bestowed upon us," said Ron as he gestured dramatically. "From this day forth, we shall feast on the best catering a public school's unevenly divided budget can buy."

"Hard to argue with his sales pitch," Monique decided, and the three of them proceeded into the cafeteria...

...only to find Mr. Barkin standing where the senior table should have been.

"Alright students, listen up!" he shouted. "Due to new federal guidelines requiring a 'healthy' school menu, Middleton High is now offering a free salad bar. The budget that normally covered the senior table has been reallocated to pay for it."

A deafening groan echoed throughout the entire cafeteria, but Ron protested louder than all of them.

"How is that fair, Mr. B?" he complained, moving closer. "The senior table was supposed to be our reward for enduring three years of mystery meat! I'm not going back to eating that!"

"Relax, Stoppable; the mystery meat is gone too," Mr. Barkin assured him. "Another of the new guidelines requires the school to disclose the ingredients of every item on its menu, and when we asked the lunch lady what went into the mystery meat, well..." He shuddered. "You don't really wanna know."

"Well how is salad any better? Not all of us want that much roughage!"

"There's also a sandwich station," he replied, gesturing towards it. "And a new soda fountain. It's amazing what we were able to afford with the money that normally went to the senior table."

"You gotta admit, Ron, it's not that bad," said Kim, placing a hand on his shoulder as she came to his side. "This way everybody gets to eat well, not just the seniors."

"Communist," he muttered, pouting.

"Miss Possible is right," said Barkin. "And besides, a little adversity is what prepares us."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"More adversity."

"Aw man!"

"DEAL WITH IT, STOPPABLE!" he thundered. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go hit up the salad bar. I've been craving croutons all day."

"This reeks," he said, kicking the tile. Kim frowned sympathetically.

"What's wrong?"

"We were supposed to be on top this year," he explained. "The big dogs instead of just the underdogs. But it's the first day back to school and already we have no car, no senior table, and not a single freshman has scurried out of my way."

She laughed. "Is that what you thought being a senior was about? Ron, we've been here three years. We've established who we are. Your reputation doesn't change because you're suddenly on top of the food chain, and we don't need a car or a senior table to know that it's our last year here before we go on to bigger and better things."

"I know, but things like that would help make it a lot more enjoyable."

"Ron, I know you can sometimes let things go to your head, but something tells me this isn't about wanting to lord over the underclassmen."

He frowned. "You're right, KP. I guess I just... expected senior year to feel different. I know I'll never rule the school, but I don't want to just repeat the past. I thought what happened at prom was gonna change things forever, but it's been an entire summer and it just feels like more of the same."

"Well, I can think of one thing that's changed," said Kim, right before she leaned in and kissed him on the lips.

"So it _is_ true."

They jolted upright and turned around slowly.

"Oh, hey Zita," Ron said through a massively nervous smile. "How long have you been standing there?"

"I caught the highlights," Zita Flores replied, smirking. "I heard a couple rumors, but I'm glad I got to see it with my own two eyes."

"You weren't at prom?" asked Kim.

"Nah. I was at a private party."

"With who?"

"With me," said Felix Renton as he rolled up next to them. "We were both too broke to afford the registration fee so we just hung out at my place instead. Figure we'll just make it this year."

"Wait, you two are dating?" She pointed back and forth between them. "When did this happen?"

Ron scratched the back of his head. "I sorta made a couple introductions when we formed a local guild in Everlot last year. I didn't find out they were together until I brought them on to help me and Larry on the ZombieLot project."

"And you never told me?"

"Well, you always sort of zone out whenever I talk about video games, so I kinda stopped bringing it up."

"What does two of our friends dating have to do with video games?"

"They did kind of bring us together," pointed out Felix.

"Yeah, and it took until now for me to get confirmation that _you two_ are dating."

Kim considered that. "Good point."

"You guys wanna get some food?" asked Felix. "I can find us a seat."

"I've lost my appetite on account of the dumb salad bar," grumbled Ron.

"Well, _I'm_ hungry," his better half declared. "I'll go over there with Zita and we'll grab you something."

"Great. Ron, help me snag a table." They paired off and split up, with Kim and Zita moving towards the salad bar while Ron and Felix secured seats. As they approached the salad bar, Kim spied Bonnie and Monique talking to each other, though she could not discern the topic of their conversation from here.

She decided it was no big. They were more or less in the same social circle, after all. That didn't mean she wouldn't be grilling Monique about it later, though.

"So Zita, what have you been up to all summer?"

"Well, aside from helping Ron with ZombieLot, I got a summer internship at the company that makes the actual game."

"Everlot Inc? How'd you manage that a year before graduation?"

Zita shrugged, grabbing a tray as they arrived at the salad bar. "I had an in. I got Malcolm to talk to his dad for me."

"You're still talking to Malcolm? After what he did?"

"Hey, it was just a game, and he only needed to be brought down to earth a little bit. Being in drama's helped balance him out, and I figured if he had friends he might not be so hellbent on conquest."

"I wish it worked that way with some of my villains," said Kim. She piled lettuce, cheese, spinach, croutons, and a little bit of ranch into a bowl before topping it off with some shredded carrots. She prepared a similar dish for Ron. "I think I've developed a good rapport with a few of them. My bonds did feel a little looser the last time Dementor had me tied up."

"What about that green lady who works for Dr. Drakken?"

"Shego?" Kim stared deeply into her salad, eyes half-lidded. "I don't think so."

"Why not?"

She returned her focus to the other girl's face. "Don't take this the wrong way, Zita, but I don't really know you that well. Besides, I try to keep missions and school separate."

"Hey, you're the one who brought up villains."

"Point."

"And if you're worried about me not being up to date, I've gotten most of the backstory from Ron. Even if he neglected to tell me about you two being together."

"Neglected. Right. I'm sure it just slipped his mind."

"Are you okay, Kim?"

Kim sighed and began pouring her soda. "Sorry, I'm just stressed. Shego's kind of a sore spot for me, especially after what happened on prom night. I'm not sure how to feel about it."

"You mean how you kicked her into that signal tower on top of Bueno Nacho HQ?"

"Yeah."

Zita snapped a plastic lid onto her soda and inserted a straw. Kim secured napkins. "Okay, so what's the problem? She and Drakken tried to take over the world. You did what you had to."

"No, I didn't. We'd already shut the signal tower down by that point. I didn't _need_ to do it." Her eyes returned to her salad. "But I _wanted_ to."

"Why?"

She held a hand over her forehead and closed her eyes. "I don't know. I've been trying to figure it out all summer. The best I can come up with is that if felt more..."

"More...?"

"More personal. Every time I've gone out to stop Drakken and Shego in the past there's always been some level of professionalism to it. Sure, they were breaking the law, but it was a nice challenge and nobody ever got seriously hurt. Then Drakken made a fake boyfriend out of syntho-goo to distract my attention and betray me at the last minute."

"Wait, that Erik kid? I wondered why he wasn't around."

They started making their way back to the table.

"Before I found out he was really a secret agent, Shego made a comment about how she'd steal him away once she was done with me. And I kinda snapped."

"Is that why you went loco on the roof?"

"No, I was over it at that point. I was more angry at Drakken for getting inside my head like that."

"So then what?"

"I don't know. We'd already won. It was over. I just... I just had all this pent up rage, and I took it out on the first available target." She looked down into her salad a third time, then quickly looked up at Zita, fearing it may become a habit. "And the really scary part? It felt _good_."

"That's pretty brutal, Kim."

"I know, and I keep meaning to go see her and apologize, but I always seem to talk myself out of it. What would I even say? 'Hey, I know you've tried to kill me more times than I can count, but the one time I decided to return the favor was totally out of line. I hope you can forgive me.' Yeah right."

"Was she really trying to kill you all those times, though?"

"One time she threw me into a giant industrial mixer and decided she wanted a 'Kimmie Frappe.'"

"Okay, but she's evil. You're supposed to be the hero. You're different from her."

Kim frowned. "Apparently not as different as I thought."

They arrived at the table, where they found the two boys glaring intensely at each other with Rufus in between them acting as a referee.

"Okay, staring contest _why_?"

"Whoever looks away first loses these tickets to the Pain King versus Steel Toe Virtual Match that's happening in two months," explained Felix, producing said tickets from his pocket. "It's a once in a lifetime event."

"Didn't those two _already_ have a match?"

"Yeah, plenty of times," said Ron. "But this is a _virtual_ match. They're fighting in the digital realm, which means no rules, no holds barred, and no reality to get in the way of kicking some serious butt!"

"Everlot Inc. is sponsoring the match to show off their new VR helmets," explained Zita. "Mr. Needius gave me two tickets, and they were _supposed_ to be for me and Felix." She leaned down and glared at her boyfriend.

"Don't worry, babe, they will be," he promised. "Ronster here is going down."

"Uh, no I believe that _you're_ going down."

"You're going down."

"No, _you're_ going down."

"Alright, I have a solution to this," said Kim, setting down her tray. "On three, Zita. One, two..."

They each grabbed their respective boyfriends by the head and pulled them into a kiss.

"Draw!" declared Rufus.

Ron and Felix sat there dazed for a second before realizing what had happened.

"Hey, wait a minute!" they shouted in unison.

"Oh please. Ron, if you want to go I'm sure Zita can score more tickets, or you can do what normal people do and just buy them."

"But these are backstage!"

"Which you already got the _last_ time you went to a Pain King and Steel Toe match. Remember how _that_ turned out?"

"You mean when The Jackal showed up with that ancient Egyptian amulet? Good times."

"Yeah," she said in perfect deadpan. "Fun."

"Relax, I'm sure nothing will go catastrophically wrong this time."

"Well it wasn't going to before you said that."

"Yeah, you're right. Better throw salt over my shoulder just to be safe." He grabbed the entire container of salt and chucked it behind him.

"Ron, you're not supposed to throw the whole thing!"

"Hey, the more I throw, the better my luck, right?"

"Stoppable!"

Gulping, he turned around slowly to see a salt-covered Mr. Barkin glowering at him. "Yes, Mr. B?"

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"That you're gonna be watching your salt intake from now on?"

"DETENTION!"

"Aw man."

* * *

No matter what anyone said about her coaching skills when it came to middle school soccer, Kim had always been an effective leader of the cheer squad, and the rest of the girls had mostly supported that assertion over the years. She had only been unseated once, and even then Bonnie had practically begged her to take back the throne a mere three weeks later, just as she had predicted.

With the new school year came the new recruits, and she surveyed this year's crop from behind the table. Tara was seated to her left, and the judge who was supposed to be on her right was late. Kim had diplomatically decided to give Bonnie five more minutes before starting without her.

The brunette finally trudged slowly into the gym, in stark contrast to her usual strut.

"Nice of you to join us, Bonnie. Why aren't you wearing your cheer uniform?"

Bonnie scowled and marched up to the table, where she deposited said uniform. "Because I'm here to turn it in."

Okay, there was no way to prepare for that. The annoyance vanished from Kim's face and she stared blankly. "Huh?"

"Why are you quitting?" asked Tara.

Her shoulders slumped and she sighed. "I won't have time for practice anymore because I..." She hung her head in shame. "I had to get an after school job."

A resounding gasp went through the crowd. A few of the varsity members came down to comfort Bonnie, while the freshmen who were still new enough to be afraid of her wisely kept their distance.

"That sucks, Bonnie. Why the sudden job?"

Bonnie frowned. "My dad's making me help with the payments on my new car."

"I thought you said he got that as a gift just for being you."

"I lied, okay?" She raised her arms and threatened to go into meltdown mode. "He could barely cover the down payment, and he's making me help him pay the rest of it off."

Kim raised an eyebrow. "Then why buy you a car at all?"

"Tradition." She shrugged. "He bought my other two sisters a car and I begged him for one all summer until he finally caved." She glared at the hardwood like it had insulted her honor. "Connie and Lonnie never had to help with car payments."

"Major bummer," she said, adding a little extra honey into her voice. "Where'd you get a job at?"

"Club Banana," Bonnie answered, stretching out her arm and pretending to examine her nails. "I'm getting out of this with _some_ dignity."

"Well, I'm sure Monique will be happy to show you the ropes." That explained why the two of them had been talking earlier, at least.

"Don't forget, I practically live in that store anyway," she said, glaring. "I'll adjust in no time."

Kim smiled. "Of course you will. We'll miss you."

The brunette scoffed. "I'm sure. Later." She turned to walk out of the gym.

"Wait."

Bonnie stopped.

She stood up from behind the table and moved up closer to the other girl, keeping a respectful distance lest she feel threatened. "Bonnie, you've been a key part of this cheer squad since before I even joined. You always knew your routines, and you kept the other girls in line whenever I had to run off to save the world. You've done a really amazing job. I just wanted to let you know that."

Before today, Kim would have been the first to revel in seeing Bonnie drop a couple levels on the food chain, but this was the first time that she had ever witnessed the other girl willingly make herself vulnerable in front of others, and that didn't deserve mockery. It was a different kind of bravery, one that she did not always possess herself. And besides, every word she said was true.

"I..." Bonnie clearly did not know how to process that. "Thanks, Kim." She turned and fled before any more words could be spoken. Kim turned around to find the rest of the cheer squad staring uncertainly at her.

"A moment of silence for one of the greatest varsity cheerleaders Middleton High has ever known," she said, and they all closed their eyes for several seconds.

When that was over, she headed back towards the table. Taking a seat, she held a clipboard in front of her. "Okay girls, let's get started. Since we're absent a judge, I'll ask Jessica to come down here and lend a hand."

Jessica, the tall blonde who wasn't Tara, quietly descended from the bleachers and took a seat next to Kim.

"Okay, come down one at a time and show us what you got."

The next thirty minutes passed in a haze as Kim struggled to wrap her head around Bonnie leaving the cheer squad. It had previously occupied the same list of events where she imagined pigs flying or Ron eating celery. Looking back, this was something she really should have seen coming all day; she just hadn't put the pieces together until the whole thing had been dumped in her lap.

What did this mean for the squad going forward? Bonnie really was one of their key members, and while her bossiness could be infuriating at times, she had helped to enforce order among the rest of the squad. The varsity members who had been there long enough did not require a lot of supervision, but this could spell trouble for the new recruits.

But they would probably be fine. After all, she was no slouch in the leadership department herself, and it was cheerleading, not the military. As long as they could get the routines down, things would be the same as always.

The fate of the squad was hardly concerning, actually. As surprising as it was, her thoughts had turned to how this might affect Bonnie. She took eighties-movie high school archetypes more seriously than anyone else Kim knew, and quitting cheer to go work retail must have shattered her worldview something fierce. She had gotten a glimpse behind the curtain when the two of them had been stuck together by Dementor's bonding ball, but today was the first time she had seen Bonnie truly vulnerable and humbled.

Hopefully this change would prove good for her. At the very least, actually having a job would keep her from becoming one of those people who peaked in high school and never got over it.

"Okay, who's left?" she asked after going through nearly all of the candidates. A girl descended from the bleachers, and Kim did a double take when she saw her.

"Hello, Kim Possible-san."

"Yori?"

The Japanese girl bowed slightly in greeting. "I apologize for interrupting you in the middle of this very important extracurricular activity. Have you seen Stoppable-san?"

"No, that's alright, I think we're done anyway." She pressed her hands hard against the table and pushed herself to her feet. "We'll see you all tomorrow, girls! Remember to leave your uniform sizes on the chart!"

The rest of the girls began to filter out of the gym, and she ventured closer. "So what's up? You need Ron for something?"

" _Hai_. We have learned that Lord Monkey Fist is pursuing a most sacred artifact and it will be Stoppable-san's honor to stop him."

Kim crossed her arms. "Well it'll have to be my honor, too. Monkey Fist going after anything is never good."

The other girl nodded. "This is why I sought you out first instead of simply looking for Stoppable-san myself. You were an immense help in the battle against Gorilla Fist."

"You weren't too shabby yourself," she said, smiling. "Let's go find Ron and I'll have Wade call a ride."

"Our transportation is already arranged," Yori revealed as they began to walk towards the double doors that led out of the gym. "Yamanouchi graduates wait in a hover-jet outside."

"Are these graduates gonna help us bring down Monkey Fist?"

Yori giggled and placed a hand over her mouth. "And here I thought Stoppable-san was the only one with the American-style jokes. Stopping Lord Monkey Fist is my extra credit assignment, and I am allowed only two partners."

"Wait, you're chasing after a crazed supervillain for homework?"

"Is this different from what you do?"

She thought about that for a minute. "Well, I guess the only real difference is my homework is still waiting for me when I get back from a mission."

"Then it appears I have it easier than you."

Kim laughed.

* * *

Monkey Fist sat perfectly still in the lotus position, deep in thought. Meditation was central to his routine, as it often afforded him new insights into familiar problems. He had no special interest in spiritual enlightenment, but it had a calming effect on his mind and allowed him time to reflect on everything that had led him to this point in his life.

It was time largely squandered, transforming himself with surgery, chasing relics, and training monkey ninjas. All those half-baked prophecies he'd spent the last few years of his life pursuing were nothing compared to what he was onto. For the first time in a long time, he had true clarity of purpose. It wasn't just some monkey obsession anymore. This time he was on the cusp of something truly extraordinary.

He could hardly contain himself.

The truth was that meditation had proven to be the only way to force himself to sit still so he didn't work himself into a frenzy. To pull this off, he needed focus. He needed a clear plan. He needed...

"Hey, sorry to snap you out of your monkey me-time, but are you sure this heading is right?"

He needed assistance.

Sighing, he rose from the floor of the spacious jet, piloted by his new partner in this endeavor. He strode over to the front of the plane and examined the instrument panel. "Yes, that appears to be in order."

"Yeah, it's just that there's a mountain range coming up in about twenty miles and crashes are rather low on my list of preferred ways to go out."

"It's my understanding that airplanes can fly over mountains."

"I can't do that _and_ stay under the radar," she said. "Being stealthy in a jet is hard enough but it's even harder when you've got half the local military up your ass."

"Then what do you suggest?"

She pointed to a map. "There's a narrow canyon here. It'll be a tight fit but it should get us into the valley while staying low enough that we don't show up on early warning radar."

He nodded. "Very well."

His new partner blinked, as if he had uttered something absurd. "What is it?"

"Nothing; I guess I'm just not used to having a boss who actually listens to me," she answered as she adjusted their heading. "But I can adapt."

"I'm hardly your old employer," he said. "Though I must say, I am rather surprised that you would leave him after everything the two of you have endured."

"Yeah well, let's just say I wanna take a break from mad science for a while."

"Even so, I doubt Dr. Drakken will take this parting well."

"Dr. D can go drop the soap in the prison shower for all I care," said Shego. "Because of his dumb scheme I got electrocuted and had to put up with an entire month of bad hair days."

"I can scarcely fathom how that much hair might appear when misbehaving."

"Believe me, you're better off not knowing. Anyway, I wanted a change of pace and I figured working for a kung fu movie villain might be a good place to start."

"I'm touched."

"Didn't you used to have a butler to handle the pithy sarcasm?"

"Sadly, Bates struck a plea bargain following our initial arrest and is currently serving three to five as an accomplice in artifact smuggling and attempted murder. I work better without him, anyway."

"Uh-huh. And what about the monkey ninjas?"

"Back at the hideout. Where we're going, they are forbidden by ancient Mystical Monkey Laws to enter."

"Right, because laws are _so_ important to us."

"Well, not to you and me, obviously, but these ones are important to the monkeys."

"Is _that_ why you needed me?"

"Partly. But you play a large role in the events to come."

"Yippee. I love prophecies."

"Now who's being sarcastic?"

"Hey, I'm just glad to be working for someone who can actually appreciate it," she replied. "Dr. D thought I was too 'lippy.'"

"It _is_ a lost art," he agreed, stroking his chin.

"This prophecy doesn't happen to mention _exactly_ what I'm supposed to do, does it?"

"Unfortunately, no. The ancients always love to be as vague as possible when it comes to the future. It does however give one greater freedom with which to interpret their role."

"Hey, I'm not asking for a freaking day planner. I just wanna make sure we're not missing some stupid wordplay that ends up being incredibly obvious in hindsight."

"There's not much of a prophecy at all," he revealed. "Merely a few mentions of some powerful artifacts in several rare texts I obtained. One of them was the Horn of a Thousand Shrieking Monkeys, which is the reason you're no longer behind bars."

"Hey, the only reason I stayed in prison that long in the first place was because I didn't really know what I'd do with myself once I was free. I mean yeah, there's a spa in Greece I could go to but there's only so much relaxing I can do before I start to get bored."

"You've never been one to chart your own path, have you?"

"That always seemed like too much of a headache. Besides, if I'm not the one who thought up the plan I only get charged as an accomplice, which leads to less severe sentences. Makes it easier to break out."

"I see. Well, whatever your reasons, I am grateful for your help. This is one undertaking that I could never accomplish on my own."

"Yeah, don't mention it, but I should tell you the black market value of the artifacts is the main draw for me here," she admitted. "You _are_ planning on selling them, right?"

"It's a little late to ask that question, don't you think?"

"Answer it anyway."

"Yes, yes, we'll fence whatever I don't have a personal interest in using," he replied. "It will help restore some of the family fortune that I spent on my experimental surgeries. And of course we'll divide the money evenly, as outlined in your contract."

"Long as we're clear." She leaned over the instrument panel. "We're coming up on the canyon. I need to focus."

"Of course," he said, returning to the back of the jet to meditate further.

* * *

"In an effort to make these detention sessions a little more educational, I've decided to integrate vocabulary lessons," announced Mr. Barkin as he stood in front of the chalkboard. "Stoppable, would you care to read the word on the board?"

Ron leaned closer. "Paradigm."

"Now, does anybody want to venture a guess as to what that word means?"

"Uh, does it have anything to do with, like, paradise?" asked Rod, the blonde stoner who had mistakenly wandered into detention three years ago, and had managed to find his way back into it many times since.

Barkin shook his head.

"I think it's something about the way we think and stuff," said Maurice, who had also borne witness to the first and last time Kim Possible had gotten detention. Big Mike had graduated the year before and was therefore not present, though not for lack of trying on Mr. Barkin's part. "Like, a set of cultural values?"

"Very good." He nodded. "A paradigm is a fancy word for 'the way things are.' It's how culture, lifestyle, philosophy and other factors combine to form a unique state of affairs. Who can give me a more specific example?"

"Well, Kim's paradigm is wake up, go to school, save the world," said Ron. "It's how she's lived her life ever since she set up her website."

"Very good, Stoppable, but I thought your girlfriend was the cheerleader, not you."

Ron wrinkled his nose and sat up straighter. "How did you know we're dating?"

"Putting aside the fact that I was present at the Prom where you two finally resolved the lingering romantic tension between you, your public display of affection in the cafeteria earlier was impossible to miss."

"Oh."

Barkin paced back and forth in front of them with both hands held behind his back. "Now, you've all been in detention enough times to have established a paradigm of your own. One that puts you back here with troubling regularity. I _could_ bore you all with lectures on social psychology and moral responsibility, but that won't keep you from ending up back here next week. Or even tomorrow."

He stopped pacing and stared straight at Ron. "The fact is, if any of you were going to improve, it would have happened by now. Instead, you've all established your own little rut of mediocrity that will follow you into your adult lives."

"That's not really fair, Mr. B," said Ron.

Rod nodded in agreement. "Yeah, the system, like, failed us, man."

"Spoken like a true hippie. Don't blame a system beyond your control on your personal failings. Does the real world present challenges? Absolutely. But if you want to overcome them you have to start taking ownership of your actions. Besides, I think your neighbor has more right to complain about 'the system' than you."

"Yeah, y'all don't think it's suspicious that the black kid ends up in here every week?"

"Racism is an insidious and systemic evil that no civilized society should condone, but your presence here today has more to do with setting off illegal firecrackers in the Science Lab." He looked off into the distance. "So many terrified lab rats."

"How are they illegal if I made 'em myself? I swear, they went off on accident."

"Your brilliant future as a chemist aside, all of you are here today because of the choices you made, while others are not because of the choices they made. We all make choices, but our choices also make us."

Ron wrinkled his brow. "Is this lecture supposed to be punishment? Because I gotta say, it's working."

"It's _supposed_ to be a final call to action before I leave you to your own devices. Despite what you may think, I take the education of all the students here seriously."

"Is that why you teach half the classes?"

" _That_ is because of a very lax sick day policy that I feel should be revised. Regardless, all of you are headed down a dangerous path. It's not too late to turn back."

"Mr. Barkin, I still think you're being unfair. You're calling us failures before we've really had a chance to prove ourselves."

"You've had plenty of chances. And I'm not impressed."

"How well have you actually gotten to know us in all the time we've spent here? We've all got something to offer. Yeah, Rod might be a stoner, but he's great at skating and he's the ultimate listener because he's so chill. He'd make a great therapist."

"Dude, really?"

"And you already know Maurice is good enough at chemistry to make his own fireworks, but did you also know he's got excellent chemistry with the ladies? He's gonna be rich and happy one day no matter how much time he spends in here."

"Thanks, man."

"And what about you? What makes you so special?"

Ron started counting off with his fingers. "Well, I'm so good at cooking that you let me take over the cafeteria that one time, I invented umbrella surfing, I'm an honorary Pixie Scout, I won the talent show, I personally know Brittina and MC Honey, I invented a popular fast food item, I was a millionaire for a week, and I beat Dr. Drakken in a rap battle on American Starmaker. And last but not least, I help Kim save the world."

Barkin crossed his arms. "I'm liking this newfound confidence, Stoppable. Still, I have to wonder how much help you actually are."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Kim Possible is head cheerleader, an expert martial artist, chairwoman of half the clubs and committees at Middleton High, maintains a solid 3.5 GPA, and routinely, as you put it, wakes up, goes to school and saves the world. How exactly do you figure into that?"

"Better than you might think. Did you know Global Justice once thought I was the key to Kim's success? They called it… The Ron Factor."

Barkin leaned back onto his desk and eyed him skeptically. "Global who?"

"Global Justice. They're an international spy organization that does covert work in the name of justice all over the world. It's all in the name, really."

"Stoppable, the only reason I've listened to you this long is because I am contractually obligated to stay in this room for the duration of the detention period. But if you expect me to believe that a covert government agency thought _you_ were the secret to Kim Possible's success, you must have me confused with someone gullible."

"Well, the theory didn't exactly pan out. The way I figure, they weren't looking at the whole picture. It's not about what either of us does individually. It's about how we work together as a team."

"And how _do_ you work together?"

"It's simple. She does the impossible stuff, and I... help."

"You help. Help how?"

"I'm the distraction. The villains spend so much time paying attention to me that they don't notice Kim's foiled their plans until it's too late."

"So let me get this straight. All she has to do is wait for you to cause a spectacle with your utter incompetence that somehow hasn't gotten you killed, even though you're not even remotely qualified for the work you do."

"Yeah!" He slowly realized what had been said. "Wait..."

"Stoppable, you may not have realized this yet but your partner has been using you as a human shield this whole time," Barkin continued. "Back in the Army we used to call men like that appetizers because they were the first thing on the enemy's plate."

"Weren't you in the National Guard?"

"That's beside the point. I get what you're trying to say, but you might not be as integral to Possible's strategy as you thought."

"I wouldn't say that."

They all turned to see Kim standing in the doorway. Ron did a double take when he noticed Yori next to her.

"Possible. I don't remember giving you detention."

"Well, I need Ron for something," she said. "He's a _very_ integral part of our team."

Barkin crossed his arms over his chest. "How so?"

She smiled. "Ron's not just a distraction. He's actually been the one to stop the doomsday device while I fight the villains more than a few times, so if you think about it a certain way, _I'm_ the distraction."

"That's an interesting way of looking at it," he said. "Still, I have to ask: why him?"

"Because he's my best friend." Kim shrugged. "He's always there to help pick me up when I'm feeling down, and I really couldn't do it without him. Where's the fun in saving the world if you can't do it with a friend?"

"Yo, he knows you two are dating," said Maurice.

"Okay, I like saving the world with my boyfriend. Same diff."

Barkin's face still displayed confusion and disbelief. "You do what you do for _fun_?"

"Well, I do it because it's the right thing to do, but Ron helps make it more than that. I need him."

"Hm. Be that as it may, he still has another hour of detention. You'll have to wait."

"Kinda running on a time crunch, Mr. Barkin. Can't he just make it up later?"

"No."

Kim was about to speak again when Yori stepped forward and bowed. "Barkin-sensei, if I may have a moment of your time."

"Who are you?"

"I am Yori of the Yamanouchi school. I am the one who requires Stoppable-san's assistance."

Barkin stroked his chin. "Yamanouchi... Why does that name sound familiar?"

"Foreign exchange program sophomore year," offered Ron.

"Right. What do you need with Stoppable?"

Yori stood on her toes and whispered something into Barkin's ear. Whatever it was, the man immediately changed his tune.

"Very well, I'll allow Stoppable to leave in order to complete this important assignment. But I expect to see him back here tomorrow for a debriefing."

"It shall be so," promised Yori. "Come, Stoppable-san."

Ron stared in disbelief before being literally dragged from his seat by the combined efforts of Kim and Yori.

"What did you tell him?" he asked as soon as they were out of the room.

"As the American saying goes, 'wouldn't you like to know?'" the ninja replied with a coy smile.

"Yes, yes I would like to know," he said, clasping his hands together and adopting a begging position. "Teach me your secrets."

"Ron, it doesn't matter what she told him," said Kim. "We need to go after Monkey Fist and our ride's waiting outside."

"Wait, did you use some sort of ninja mind control on him?"

"There is no such thing," asserted Yori.

"Then what? The suspense is killing me!"

She chuckled. "I gave him fifty American dollars."

"Wait, what? Bribery works on him? I could have been doing that this whole time!"

"With what money?" asked Kim.

"Oh yeah, good point."

Kim and Yori laughed in unison.

Ron frowned. "Hey, when did the two of you get so chummy anyway?"

Yori blinked. "Chummy?"

"You know, friendly. As in not at each other's throats."

"Ron, we haven't been that way since I found out she wasn't working for Monkey Fist," Kim told him, annoyed. "Which I only thought in the first place because you didn't tell me anything about her."

"Well, I was sworn to secrecy."

"And I get that, but instead of even letting me know that you couldn't tell me you tried to change the subject and just ran off. I didn't have a lot to go on and I conclusion-jumped to an option that didn't involve you lying to my face."

"You're sure you didn't just think all that because you were jelling?"

"I was NOT—" she insisted a little too loudly. "I was _not_ jelling," she repeated more quietly. "And besides, what's there to jell about anymore?"

He looked between the two of them. "So you're really not gonna catfight?"

Kim stared at him with a flat expression. "Only in your dreams, Ron-san."

"Aw man."

"I do not understand," said Yori. "Is this another one of Stoppable-san's American-style jokes?"

"Believe me, you're better off not knowing."

The ninja shrugged and the three of them continued walking to the exit, where the hover-jet waited to carry them to their destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: This thing started to get away from me, so I'm splitting it into two chapters. There's not a lot of action in this chapter, but I put plenty in the prologue to tide you guys over for a while. The next chapter will be posted tomorrow, and is the last of the pre-written chapters. I'm dumping them so quickly to give you guys plenty to read, but it may be a while before a new one comes out after that.
> 
> Thanks again to my beta reader, Ffordesoon. It is thanks to him that this chapter turned out as well as it did, though I think it's actually longer than when he first looked at it. Brevity is not my strong suit.
> 
> Again, I'm deliberately defying clichés in this chapter, specifically Kim's relationships with Bonnie and Yori. Girls supporting each other is much more interesting to me than girls tearing each other down. See if you can spot the rest of the fandom tropes I'm avoiding.
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	3. Trespasser

Rinko Nakamura had given the best years of her childhood to the Yamanouchi school. A prodigy, she excelled in stealth, weaponry and the mystic arts from a young age. Upon graduating, she had been hired out for a series of jobs across the world, disrupting Yakuza operations, foiling terrorists, helping South American rebels overthrow an oppressive government, and other work that only a ninja of her caliber could perform.

She was a specialist. In and out before anyone knew she was there, with the effects of her passing only becoming apparent long after she was gone, like a practice dummy falling to pieces after the sword had already sliced clean through. She was a top notch professional, the best of the best, so it was with honor that she had accepted the responsibility of guarding one of the most sacred sites known to Yamanouchi.

And she was getting her ass handed to her.

The woman currently slashing at her with her hands bathed in green was relentless, and somehow impossibly fresh despite how much energy she had to be expending. Rinko was a dancer who flowed like a river; smooth and powerful—and just a tiny bit of a showoff. Her opponent, on the other hand, was coming after her with all the grace of a hurricane. Her fighting style was a vicious but effective variation on eagle style kung fu, and the glow around her hands gave her the advantage.

The woman's apparent partner in this endeavor was something else entirely, using his limbs in ways that defied everything she knew about fighting. His feet were literally an extra pair of hands, and as such he could assume unusual positions and strike from unexpected angles. He was currently squaring off against Asami Takeda, her best friend and frequent partner on jobs like this. Swinging from the trees like his namesake, he used the jungle around them to his advantage and punched her partner in the face with his foot.

They had seen the intruders almost as soon as their plane had landed, and thought that ambushing them closer to the temple would give them the upper hand. It turned out that Monkey Fist and Shego lived up to their reputations as two of the best fighters on the planet.

She wasn't completely defenseless, relying heavily on a short-bladed ninjatō sword that she kept sheathed on her back. It had a straight back, as opposed to the curved blade of the katana or wakizashi preferred by samurai types. It was sturdy and very efficient in close quarters, and she wielded it with unrivaled skill.

Launching an offensive with a horizontal swipe, Rinko moved downwards until her body was completely inverted, balancing on one hand while spinning and swinging her sword with the other as her legs cycloned above her. Shego simply hopped backwards to avoid the admittedly flashy move, and she quickly righted herself again. She pounced, flipping forward with her sword leading and slashing down hard, where she landed in a crouch. The other woman sidestepped the blow smoothly, then raised her glowing hands above her head and prepared to strike downward.

Rolling sideways, she flipped to her feet just in time to avoid the crater Shego's power created. The intruder slashed hard as she rushed forward, which Rinko evaded with a back handspring. Shego pivoted, lashing out with a spin kick that she barely avoided. She used the half second or so that it took Shego to return to a proper stance to dash forward, stabbing at her gut. The green woman hopped to the left, then ducked under the next swipe before striking at her with a flaring uppercut.

The cosmic glow barely missed her chin as she dipped back, and a quick pivot and sidestep allowed her to dodge the spinning elbow strike that followed. Her enemy's shin made its way through her defenses, smashing into her gut and nearly emptying her lungs. Her training kept her from doubling over, but did little to protect her against Shego's onslaught. She produced a smoke bomb and threw it between them, leaping into the trees above just long enough to catch her breath.

Asami wasn't faring much better against her opponent, who wove in and out of the trees far more quickly that she could hope to match. Monkey Fist had long been an enemy of the Yamanouchi school, and was already a master of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar even before being exposed to the Mystical Monkey Power. When he had his mind set on something he was a force to be reckoned with, and Rinko knew that they alone were not enough to stop him. Shego's presence tipped the scales even further in his favor.

Given the nature of what they were protecting, having actual guardians was more of a formality, since only the worthy could even enter. And against nearly anybody else, two Yamanouchi ninja would have been more than sufficient. But with every passing second, Rinko became more and more certain that they were hopelessly outmatched.

Flaring up her glow, Shego burned quickly through the tree on which she had perched, and Rinko leaped over to the next one as it crashed to the ground. Shego spun quickly around and launched three glowing bolts her way, which she cartwheeled along the thick branch to avoid. She countered with several shuriken, which were vaporized upon contact with the glow.

Shego moved into a front handspring on top of the fallen tree and propelled herself upwards in a superhuman leap, landing in front of her. Rinko lunged forward and swiped at her feet, but the other woman simply hopped over the blade and countered by bringing her glowing hands together like scissors, hoping to trap her between them. Barely avoiding the strike, she backflipped along the branch to gain some distance, but her opponent was just as surefooted and suffered no delays in closing the gap once more.

Stepping into emptiness, Rinko fell just long enough to grip the branch firmly and swing upwards, planting her feet on the bottom of the branch and heaving her body forward, then grabbing it again before swinging up behind Shego and kicking her in the back.

The other woman flew forward from the impact, tumbling along the remains of a gigantic stone monkey head before rolling to her feet. The large bricks had cracked over the centuries and filled with vines, which made it a simple matter for Shego to rake her glowing claws along the top of the monument and launch a hail of burning stone in her direction. She bobbed and weaved through most of it, but a few of the projectiles made it through and stunned her just enough so that the follow up bolt smacked her in the chest and sent her to the ground.

She only barely managed to avoid landing on her head.

Shego leaped down from the wall with her glowing fist held high, and she somersaulted backwards to avoid what could have been a fight-ending blow. When Shego's glow struck the ground, it radiated outward in a shockwave and she jumped over it, turning her body sideways and spinning twice before landing on one foot and hurling three shuriken her way. Her opponent bobbed to the side, and the shuriken buried themselves in the tree behind her. She smirked, extending her left arm and gesturing for Rinko to bring it.

Careful not to lose her cool, she produced a single ring dagger from her belt and hurled it at Shego. When she predictably swatted it to the side, Rinko jumped forward, angling a diagonal sword strike at her neck while in midair. Shego caught her by the forearm and torso, then adjusted her stance and used the momentum Rinko had already built against her, throwing her straight at the three protruding shuriken.

There was no time to evade or change direction. The cold steel buried itself in her shoulder and ribs, pinning her to the tree. Shego was already running towards her, and sent her through the tree with a flying kick. Splinters flew all around her as the world passed by in slow motion, and somehow she managed not to shatter her spine. She tumbled along the ground, and the shuriken thankfully dislodged themselves along the way. The short prongs had not penetrated very deep, so a few cuts were so far the worst of her injuries. At least she still had her sword.

She caught a glimpse of how Asami's fight was going. Monkey Fist had her on the defensive still, and seemed to be doing an excellent job smashing through said defenses. Asami had not been trained from childhood, but had found Yamanouchi as a teenager. Her graduation had resulted from her extensive knowledge of both science and the mystic arts, and it had been her magic that first detected the plane where their radar had failed. But while her fighting skills were still superb, she was no match for a master of Monkey Fist's caliber.

Rinko was forced to return to her own situation when a blast from Shego nearly fried her where she stood. The blasts seemed more concussive than combustive, but they had also managed to set fire to stone earlier, so it stood to reason that Shego could control the temperature to achieve the effect she wanted. Whatever the energy was, it behaved in ways that defied her understanding of physics. Science was more Asami's forte than hers, but she was starting to get a handle on how the other woman's powers worked well enough to counter them.

Another volley approached and she flipped out of the way, but her opponent was already there, aiming a punch at her face. She somersaulted forward under her arm, positioning herself behind the other woman and slicing at her back as she spun around. Shego was quicker, and the sword caught only a few strands of hair.

Shego launched a tornado kick as she turned around, knocking the sword out of her hands and barely missing her head. She followed this up with a glow-infused slash, which Rinko intercepted at the wrist. Grabbing her other arm, Rinko ran up her opponent's body and then kicked off of her, clutching an overhead branch and using it to spin once before launching herself at Shego like a missile. Her feet landed dead in the other woman's chest and sent her to the ground about as softly as a meteor crash.

For a moment she believed she had the upper hand, until Asami slammed into her, having been thrown by Monkey Fist.

They rolled along the ground for several meters before landing in a heap. Asami was already unconscious, and she wasn't feeling much better. Shego strolled casually over to her, and the last thing Rinko saw before blacking out was the underside of her boot.

* * *

**Chapter Two**  
Trespasser

* * *

"So what's Monkey Fist after?" Kim asked as soon as they reached cruising altitude.

"It is called the Arsenal of the Ancients," said Yori, swiping her hand across the tabletop display in the surprisingly spacious cabin. A holographic model of a temple appeared in front of them. "A storehouse for artifacts of immense power. It is where Toshimiru obtained the Lotus Blade."

"How many artifacts are we talking, here?"

"The true number is unknown, but the temple contains many vaults. No one knows who originally possessed the artifacts or why they locked them up."

"But Monkey Fist is after one of them?"

"He may very well be after all of them," she said. "After raiding another of our sacred sites, he obtained the Horn of a Thousand Shrieking Monkeys, and I fear his intentions for it bode ill."

"No duh," said Kim. "What does it do, anyway?"

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say it has something to do with shrieking."

"Stoppable-san is correct. It produces an overwhelming sonic disturbance over a large area."

"Well at least we know he'll be making a lot of noise with it." She produced her Kimmunicator. "Got any ideas, Wade?"

"Let's see... there was a report of some sort of sonic weapon being discharged early this morning at the Villain Prison," the tech genius informed them, transferring his image to the hover-jet's holo-table. "Nobody suffered any long-term hearing damage, but all the guards were incapacitated for about an hour. Only two inmates escaped: Shego and Frugal Lucre."

Kim sent an annoyed glare his way. "And you didn't think to tell me this _why_?"

"It was your first day back to school. I didn't want to bother you with anything that wasn't world-threatening."

"Hm." She crossed her arms. "Lucre's nothing to worry about, but Shego escaping probably wasn't a coincidence," Kim hypothesized. "Breaking her out was most likely his goal all along."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, if you were trying to break into a bunch of ancient vaults, who would you team up with?"

Wade nodded as he caught her drift. "A master thief."

"Bingo."

"Wait, if we're facing Shego, maybe you shouldn't have left the battlesuit at home," said Ron.

"Oh come on, I dealt with her for years without that thing," she replied. "Way overkill."

"Yeah, but you never know."

"Eh, Wade's working on upgrading it anyway so it's officially in the shop." She waved her hand dismissively. "We'll be fine."

He frowned. "If you say so."

"How'd you know Monkey Fist is after this place anyway?" she asked. "I assume you guys keep an eye on something that important, right?"

"Yamanouchi graduates do guard the temple," confirmed Yori. "But he has an advantage over them that we are unable to guard against. The temple and its vaults will only open for one who has been exposed to Mystical Monkey Power."

"Which is why you need Ron."

She nodded.

"Wait, if he can get into the vaults already then why's he need Shego?" asked Ron. "Kim's right that she's a master thief, but that's with, like, modern security systems."

"Legend tells that the innermost vault cannot be opened with the Mystical Monkey Power alone. It requires a cosmic power from beyond our world."

"Well, Shego did get her powers from a comet," Kim said, shrugging. "It makes sense."

"There is more," the ninja told them, pressing a few keys on the display. "In addition to stealing the Horn of a Thousand Shrieking Monkeys, Monkey Fist also obtained the full manifest of all known artifacts contained by the temple. Fortunately we had the data backed up on a secure hard drive."

"Wait, you guys use computers? Weird."

"Ron, we're standing in one of their hover-jets."

"Oh, good point."

"The artifacts listed in the texts he stole are quite powerful," Yori continued. "But three in particular stand out. The Rain Talisman, The Staff of Sun Wukong, and the Heaven's Eye."

"What do those do?"

"Weather control, shapeshifting, and teleportation."

"I think the only one of those we haven't run into yet is shapeshifting," said Kim.

"These are likely not Monkey Fist's true targets," she clarified. "If they were, he would not have gone to the trouble of freeing Shego."

"Then what's so important about them?"

"They act as keys for the doors leading to the innermost vault, which is then opened by a combination of Mystical Monkey Power and the cosmic power wielded by Shego. That cannot be allowed to happen."

"Agreed," said Kim. "What exactly is it they're after anyway?"

"What lies behind the final vault is unknown. The only clue the text provides is that when the past, present and future become one, a great blue light shall herald the conqueror of the universe."

"An ancient prophecy. Joy."

"It is not a prophecy, merely a description of what the artifact does."

"Even so, I'm betting that 'conqueror of the universe' part is what attracted Monkey Fist."

"On this we agree. We must prevent him from accessing the vault at all costs."

"How much of a head start have they got, Wade?"

"I'm looking for traces of any aircraft in the coordinates Yori sent me, but they're probably flying below the radar. Based on the time Shego got sprung, added to the time it would take them to secure transportation, plus flight time means... they've probably already gotten there."

"Then we'd better hurry."

* * *

The hover-jet descended through the clouds like a hand caressing silk, then continued downward to the dense jungle treetops before landing in a clearing. Another craft had arrived before them. The wheels touched the ground and the ramp opened, and soon after their feet hit the dirt.

"That's definitely Shego's jet," said Kim of the sleek green and black aircraft. "No mistaking her fashion sense."

"That confirms it then," replied Wade from the Kimmunicator screen. "They're probably already inside the temple. You have to hurry."

"Was planning on that."

"Stoppable-san will take the lead once we get to the temple," announced Yori. "Until then allow me to serve as your guide."

"Yeah, I've never been much of a lead-taker, so be my guest." He fiddled with his utility belt, and with a little help from Rufus managed to secure it so that his pants didn't fall to the ground.

"Do not sell yourself short, Stoppable-san. You have proven yourself a man of considerable talent in the past. Your humility is a source of great strength and wisdom, but do not let it erode your confidence."

"Oh, you have no idea how deep the confidence issues run," Kim said. "Let's just say his child psychologist was able to afford a new pool."

"Well, it wasn't a complete waste of money, because he taught me that _words hurt_ , Kim."

She attached herself to his arm. "Oh, relax. Yori's kinda right. How many times are you gonna realize at the last minute that you've always been able to save the day just as well as I can?"

"When did _you_ realize it?" he fired back. "You've never really told me any of this before."

"At prom," she answered, releasing him but still smiling. "When we were tied up in that storeroom I wanted to give up and just let Drakken win, but you never gave up on me. You believed in me even when I stopped believing in myself. That's why it makes me sad to see you doing the same thing to yourself."

"I believe in you as well, Stoppable-san," said Yori. "You have the makings of a great hero."

He frowned skeptically.

"Hey, I believe in Ron too but the overwhelming time pressure?" Wade interjected.

Kim stood up straighter. "Right! Heart to heart can wait."

The jungle beckoned, and the three of them set out toward the temple.

"Do you think they're inside already?" asked Kim.

"With any luck, the guardians subdued them."

"And how would you rate their luck against Monkey Fist and Shego combined?"

Yori considered that, and an odd mixture of worry and despair overtook her face. "At best they would only manage to slow them down."

"Well these are the graduate ninjas, right?" Ron pointed out." They've gotta be super skilled."

"They are among the best fighters in the world."

"But Shego and Monkey Fist are better," said Kim.

She nodded.

Time passed quietly for the next few minutes, save for the noise of the jungle. Ron glanced around nervously at the various monkey-related statues that grew in frequency the closer they got to the monolithic temple that dominated the horizon, so immense that even the dense foliage could not conceal it. Rufus stood on his shoulder and occasionally smacked him before panic could set in.

"So Yori," said Kim, trying to pass the time with conversation. "I've told you that Ron and I are dating, right?"

The ninja stopped walking and stared at her blankly.

"I bet that sounded way smoother in your head," Ron jabbed from behind them.

"Yeah, subtle," mumbled Rufus.

After a few moments, Yori closed her eyes and smiled. "This is wonderful news. I am glad that the two of you have found happiness together."

"You're not mad?" asked Ron. "I know you had a thing..." The blank stare returned. "...for me?"

"Now who thinks they're smooth?"

Again, Yori took the words in stride. "There are more important matters at stake here."

"Yeah, like where those guardian ninjas are. How many are there, anyway?"

"Only two. Since entry to the temple is impossible without exposure to the Mystical Monkey Power, there is no need for a large force."

"Still you'd think we'd have come across them by..." The words died in her throat as they spotted two women lying unconscious on the ground not fifty meters in front of them.

They were clad in standard ninja gear, dyed green to blend into the jungle. Neither wore a hood. One had her hair done in a ponytail, while the other had long, silky, free-flowing hair that splayed around her as she lay practically unmoving. The first appeared to be lean, elegant, and built for stealth, while the second had a thinner, more waifish appearance that nonetheless suggested she knew how to handle herself in a fight.

Yori's emotions seemed to be pulling her in several conflicting directions. Her face moved from frightened to horrified to sad to vengefully angry.

"Rinko-chan!" she shouted as though she'd been stabbed, rushing over to the fallen ninja—the one with the ponytail—and crouching by her side. "Rinko-chan, can you hear me?" There was no response, and her face grew more desperate. " _Onii-san_!"

A pained moan was all that emerged from Rinko's lips, but it was enough to earn a hug that could easily be mistaken for a death grip. "Yori-chan?"

Yori released her from the bear hug and smiled. "I am relieved to see you alive, Onii-san. What happened?"

"I got my ass kicked," she replied with considerably less of an accent than the other girl. "That green lady fights like a fucking thunderstorm."

"So Shego _has_ been through here."

"Yeah, and Monkey Fist was right beside her. He handed Asami-chan her ass too." She gestured to the other fallen ninja. "She'll be okay, though." It was then that Rinko noticed they were not alone. "Who are your friends?"

"This is Kim Possible-san and Ron Stoppable-san," she answered, gesturing between them. "They are here to help."

"And who is she?" asked Kim.

"This is Rinko Nakamura-san. My sister."

There was a pause, during which both of them stared blankly. Ron turned to Rufus, then to Kim, then back to the ninjas.

"You have a _sister_?!"

She nodded. "That is correct, Stoppable-san. Rinko-chan is my elder sister by three years."

"Two years, ten months," corrected Rinko, her voice still strained. At least she was sitting up on her own now, cradling Asami's unconscious form. "You know I hate it when you round up."

"Yep, definitely sisters."

"I'm assuming she's already graduated," said Kim.

"Your friend is perceptive."

"Even though that was sarcastic, I'm taking it as a compliment."

"Take it however you want, my head is killing me." She pressed the heel of her palm against her forehead as she leaned forward.

Kim kneeled down in front of her and stared into her eyes. "Are you feeling dizzy at all? Any trouble remembering things?"

"You a doctor or something?"

"My mom is. Brain surgeon. I know a thing or two about head trauma."

Nobody saw Ron frown when she said that.

Rinko rubbed her temples. "I just got kicked in the head by Shego. Blacked out for a few minutes. It's no big deal, just a headache." She looked down at Asami. "It's her I'm worried about."

"Well, your pupils aren't dilated and you have no trouble talking to us, so you probably don't have a concussion. All the same, I think it's best if you sit the rest of this out in the hover-jet."

"You'll get no argument from me. Shego fights like nothing I've ever seen."

"Really? 'Cause Kim beats her all the time."

"Ron..."

"What? It's true. I mean one time you beat Shego and foiled Drakken without even interrupting our conversation."

She raised an eyebrow. "When was that?"

"When cousin Shawn came over for my other cousin's wedding."

"Right, Attitudinator. But don't you think you're being rude?"

"It's fine." Rinko waved her hand. "Yori-chan has told me all about how good you are. But the thing is, I was briefed on Shego a couple years back when I was on assignment in Angola. They told us what to expect if we ran into her. We never did, but compare the stuff I saw on that tape to what I saw when she was coming after me, it's like I was fighting a completely different person."

"Different how?"

"She seemed more focused. More driven. Like defeating me was the only thing in the world that she cared about. Most of the old fights I watched were her fights with you, and they always seemed to get cut off whenever Drakken did something especially distracting."

"He does always seem to throw her off at the worst possible moment," Ron concurred.

"So you're saying that without Drakken, she's able to concentrate better."

Rinko nodded. "It seemed like she knew what she wanted."

Kim put a hand to her chin, unsure of how to process that. Shego had never displayed much ambition with Drakken, but it never felt like she was fighting Kim just because she was contracted to. It was difficult to describe the electrifying feeling that happened when they traded blows. Several of her kung fu masters had told Kim that fighting somebody was the best way to get to know them, so she should know Shego better than anybody. And yet, so much about her was still a mystery.

"I guess we'll find out how big a threat she is when we catch up with them. Is your friend gonna be alright?"

"Asami-chan is tough. She just needs a little rest."

Yori tilted her head slightly. "You call her –chan now. You have gotten closer."

"Yeah, I guess we have."

She bowed. "My congratulations."

Returning the bow, Rinko managed to stand with the help of the graduates who had brought a stretcher from the jet for Asami.

"Wait, I'm lost," said Ron, scratching his head.

"Me too, actually," agreed Kim.

"It is to do with honorifics. I will explain later."

"Good luck," said Rinko as they moved on toward the temple.

As soon as they arrived back on the hover-jet, Asami began to stir.

"Asami-chan, you're awake!" she exclaimed, overjoyed.

"I was not unconscious," the other girl revealed. "I was consumed by a vision."

"About what?"

"Yori-san and the two Americans she brought with her. Their mission will not end well. None of them will walk out of that temple in the same condition they entered."

"I suppose it would be useless to try and stop them?"

"The wheels of destiny are in motion. And they are already inside. We could not follow even without our current injuries."

"At least tell me Yori-chan will be alright."

"She will. But she will not emerge unchanged."

Rinko sighed. "Let's just hope that's a good thing."

* * *

The titanic stone doors of the Arsenal of the Ancients opened in a grand spectacle, shaking the very earth as they slowly parted to allow entry to Ron, Kim and Yori. Stone dust descended in a fine cloud, dissipating long before it reached the hard granite staircase that led from the jungle floor to the entrance. The trees shook and the birds retreated to higher ground, while the larger fauna merely raised their heads. It was, as the ancients intended it, a truly awe-inspiring sight.

Not that the three of them noticed.

"So wait, calling me Stoppable-san was just you being polite?"

"Honorifics are a staple of the Japanese language and culture," Yori explained patiently. "It is analogous to calling you Mr. Stoppable, or Miss Possible."

"Hey, Mr. Stoppable is my _dad_."

"English does not allow for much variety in connotations the way Japanese does."

"Is that why you put –chan at the end of your sister's name?" asked Kim.

"Yes. The –chan honorific is used to address a close loved one, usually among siblings, close friends, or significant partners."

"Like Asami."

Yori nodded. " _Hai_."

Ron rubbed his chin. "Wait, I'm confused, is she your sister too?"

"No. But they are very close, far closer than I had previously known them to be."

"What does that mean?"

"Ron, she's saying they're... you know..." Kim crossed her fingers.

"Hoping to get lucky?"

"In a way..." She pressed two fingers together. "You know..."

"Breaking a wishbone at thanksgiving?"

She grumbled and formed her fingers into scissors, then mashed them together repeatedly. " _You know_..."

"Ooh! Really into arts and crafts!"

"Girlfriends!" she finally shouted. "They're gay, Ron!"

The doors of the temple slammed shut, as if to punctuate her frustrated declaration.

Ron stared. "Wait, really?"

Yori nodded.

"Wow. Right on."

"You are taking this well, Stoppable-san."

"Did you think I wouldn't?"

Yori blushed. "I suppose not. I am accustomed to a certain reaction whenever others learn of my sister's predilections towards other women."

"Hey, the Ron man is accepting of everybody, especially those who appreciate the _ladies_."

"I think it's cool too," said Kim, placing a hand on Yori's shoulder. "You must be so happy for them."

"I am." The ninja's features darkened. "Which makes it all the more upsetting that they were injured by Shego and Monkey Fist."

"Hey, you didn't use honorifics on them," Ron pointed out.

"They are not deserving. The lack of an honorific can be the greatest expression of intimacy or the greatest insult. In this case I intend the latter."

"I see." He put a finger to his chin. "And why is that?"

"Because if you're not using an honorific on somebody, it either means you're so close you don't even need one, or you want to be as rude as possible to someone you hate," said Kim. "Did I get that right?"

She nodded.

"I dunno, hate's kind of a strong word. Your sister's gonna be fine."

"Do not question me on this, Stoppable-san!" Yori shouted, suddenly inches from his face. "My sister could have sustained serious head trauma and Asami-san was still unconscious when we left!"

"And they're getting the medical attention they need," said Kim. "You okay, Yori?"

The ninja took a deep breath, then clasped her hands in front of her and bowed. "I beg your forgiveness for lashing out at you. I do not know what came over me."

"Hey, it's no big. Just don't scare us like that again, okay?"

"I didn't know you _could_ get angry."

This time Kim whirled on him. "Ron!"

"Sorry, sorry." He put a hand to his chin. "Hey, I just had a thought. Why is the leader of your school called Master Sensei? Isn't –sensei an honorific?"

Yori covered her mouth and giggled, snapping instantly back into her familiar personality. "Sensei is his name. But yes, when speaking Japanese we do refer to him as Sensei-sensei."

Ron scratched his chin. "Seems kinda redundant. Wonder if his parents planned it that way."

"Your sister didn't use honorifics on Monkey Fist or Shego either," noted Kim. "Or Drakken, for that matter."

"My sister has expended more effort adopting American-style patterns of speech. Also, honorifics are more commonly used on proper names, not villainous alter egos."

"Fair enough. I wondered why she didn't have an accent."

"She is the reason Hirotaka-san became so obsessed with American culture. He idolizes her."

"Even though he doesn't have a chance with her?" asked Ron.

Both women glared at him.

"Right. Stupid question. Ignore me."

"Hirotaka-san was born an only child, and thinks of Yamanouchi as his family. Rinko-chan is an inspirational figure to many."

"I'm sorry about what Shego did to her," said Kim. "But losing your temper means losing the battle before it's even started. Keep a cool head, okay?"

She nodded. "I will, Possible-san. Thank you."

They had been so engrossed in their conversation that the great hall snuck up on them, and they paused to admire its grandeur.

The room was large and circular, with an enormous stone monkey at least ten meters tall in the center. Smaller statues about a meter in height surrounded the idol, moving through changing stances that depicted some ancient fighting form that none of them had ever witnessed.

They crossed a painted wooden bridge over a moat with water so deep Kim could not see the bottom as she leaned over to look. The platform with the giant statue was part of a larger platform about thirty meters in diameter, surrounded by water. More bridges lined the edge of the platform, four in total, and led to other areas of the temple. The far walls were more accurately a series of large archways stacked on top of each other, in a way that reminded Kim of the Colosseum.

The room was lit mostly by naturally luminescent crystals embedded into the wall like torches, casting a surprisingly natural hue across the space. There were small pockets of natural light emanating from rectangular holes in the ceiling, which Kim surmised must also serve as ventilation. Across the way from each of the bridges leading off of the platform was a door that led deeper into the structure. They came to a stop at the base of the statue.

"Which way?" asked Kim.

"Logic dictates that we should split up."

"Whoa there, super bad idea," said Ron. "Whatever dark evil lurks within these walls will pick us off one by one."

"What dark evil? You and Monkey Fist are the only ones who can open the door."

"That doesn't mean some monster hasn't lain in wait for centuries. They love stragglers, we should all stay as close as possible."

"Monkey Fist and Shego have likely divided their efforts," said Yori. "We should do the same."

"Okay fine, but how do we even know where they are?"

"Most likely they have gone after the artifacts." She pulled out a small tablet device, and pushed a couple of buttons, copying the data to the Kimmunicator. "These are the locations of the Rain Talisman and the Staff of Sun Wukong. I will go after the Heaven's Eye."

"Three doorways, three of us," said Kim. "Makes sense."

"What do we do if we run into trouble?" asked Ron.

"The temple walls are not so thick that we cannot remain in wireless communication," said Yori, tapping her earpiece. "If you encounter either Monkey Fist or Shego, simply send a message over the radio and we shall come to your aid."

"I'm guessing that's also why you're going after the artifact that lets you teleport?"

"Indeed, Possible-san."

"If we don't find them, we meet back here in thirty with whatever artifacts we manage to grab." Kim tapped a couple buttons on the Kimmunicator and slid it back into her pocket.

"And if they're already gone?"

"Their jet's still parked outside, and those graduate ninjas have gotta pull their own weight at some point."

"Retrieving artifacts such as these will take time," said Yori. "And we have the element of surprise. Let us find the artifacts before they do, or failing that, prevent them from leaving the temple."

"Sounds like a plan."

Each of them took a door, and the trio headed deeper into the temple.

* * *

Ron travelled uneasily down the hallway, trusting Rufus to watch his back from where he was perched on his shoulder.

The hall was surprisingly spacious; five men could travel shoulder to shoulder down its entire length, without having to duck into the various rooms and alcoves that cropped up every ten meters or so. Some of the rooms were larger than others, those that he could see were open, anyway. Kim had neglected to give him a copy of the map, so he simply opened every door along the way until he found what he was looking for.

Opening the vaults was easy enough, he had discovered. All it took was placing his hand in front of the door and a blue glow took care of the rest. Kim had needled him once for pretending he could open the doors at Smarty Mart with his mind, which she told him would have been cute if he had done so at eight and not seventeen. If only she could see him now.

The Mystical Monkey Power had never really been at the top of Ron's priorities. It made for a cool foreign exchange experience, even if he couldn't tell anybody. He wasn't that afraid of it anymore, having mostly resolved his monkey issues over the course of their various adventures. Sure, a phobia never really went away, but in his more self-aware moments Ron could admit to overselling things. It just didn't come up all that often outside of a few missions, and those always worked out in the end.

As he had told Team Impossible, it came and went. He never had cause to think about it any further than that, so he didn't. Kim and Yori were trying to make a big deal about how he was always doubting himself, but Ron just knew they were way better than he was. With Kim Possible, admitting that she was better than him in every single way didn't qualify as an inferiority complex. She really was that impossibly great. And Yori was right up there with her.

"Rufus, do you think I have self-esteem issues?" he asked, unsure if he should trust his own perspective on things right now.

To his dismay, the rodent nodded. "Uh-huh. Major."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

" _Hey Ron, you read me_?"

He put a hand to his ear. "Loud and clear, KP. Any luck on your end?"

" _The Rain Talisman's not here. Vault was open but it's gone. I'm heading your way now._ "

"That's good, 'cause I kinda never got a look at the map. I've just been opening every door I find."

" _Didn't I show it to you_?"

"Not really, no."

" _We've gotta get you your own Kimmunicator._ "

"Could we really call it that if it's not yours, though? I mean, 'Kimmunicator' is a little personalized."

" _Then what do you suggest?_ "

"Ooh! How about the Ronnunicator!"

" _Blech_. _Pass._ "

"I dunno, I kinda like it. Can't really think of why. Also, I hate meat pies."

" _And you felt like sharing that_ becaaaaause?"

"I dunno."

" _I'm almost there. Found a shortcut on the map_."

"Hey, how do you suppose they mapped this place if only people who've been touched by MMP can get in?"

" _The map is based on ancient renderings as well as sonar mapping,_ " interjected Yori. " _Mystical Monkey Power was once widespread. There were many who could access the Arsenal. Toshimiru mapped much of the structure and brought that knowledge with him when he founded Yamanouchi. The rest was done using sonar-assisted 3D modeling equipment._ "

"Makes sense."

" _I have nearly arrived at the Heaven's Eye. I see signs of Shego up ahead. Beginning radio silence."_

" _Holler if you need anything_."

He raised his hand in front of the latest door and it opened to reveal an empty room. "Still no staff. Where does it say it is on the map?"

" _I'll show you in a minute, I'm almost to where you are._ "

"Good, I can hardly—whoa!" He stopped speaking and simply _reacted_ , feeling a puff of wind ruffle his hair before ducking under a foot that sliced through the space his head had previously occupied. Rufus clung to his shirt as he rolled forward, trying to put some distance between himself and his mysterious attacker. He had caught a glimpse of that foot, however, and it looked suspiciously like a hand.

" _Ron, are you okay_?!"

"Hurry!" was all he shouted as his body moved seemingly of its own volition, blocking a strike that came from behind before sweeping his leg behind him and transitioning into a spinning handstand, his heels narrowly missing his attacker's chin.

His assailant hopped back while Ron flipped in the other direction, and Rufus stood at the ready.

"Impressive. And here I thought this would be over too quickly."

"Give up the artifact, monkey freak!" he shouted, trying to sound braver than he felt.

"You're going to have to be more specific," said Monkey Fist with a smirk. "As I have been amassing quite a collection."

"And keeping it where, in your secret monkey pockets?"

"Regular pockets work just fine," he answered, his voice returning to an exasperated deadpan. "I do have a very specific list, however. From what I managed to eavesdrop you've figured me out already. I would expect nothing less from the combined efforts of Kim Possible and the Yamanouchi school."

"You know about the team up?"

"Indeed."

"Aw, man. There goes the element of surprise."

"Oh, you never had that. I, on the other hand, managed to get the drop on you quite nicely."

He frowned.

"You reacted better than I expected, however. This may not turn out to be such a dull affair after all."

"Um, thanks?"

Monkey Fist extended one arm and drew the other in close to his chest, assuming a low horse stance. "Still, I remain skeptical that it wasn't simply luck. What say we test that?"

He held up his hands, open palm, in front of his chest and made surrendering motions. "Uh, that's really not necessary. Totally blind luck."

"Oh, that's not sporting at all. Don't you want to see if you have what it takes to stop me?"

"Not really. I was just waiting for her to get here."

"Do you _really_ expect me to fall for—"

Kim answered his question with a punch to the face the second he turned around. He staggered back, leaning against the wall for support.

"Walked right into that one, Monkey Fist." She ground her fist into her palm. "Literally."

"Kim!" He instinctually moved closer to her, and she leveled her hands at their assailant.

"Oh, how wonderful. My two favorite people in the world." He glared, and his voice dropped several octaves. "Right in my line of fire."

Producing a small, intricately carved horn from his robes, he held it to his mouth and blew, producing an ear-shattering burst of sound.

They stood there, unaffected.

"We figured you'd try using that," said Kim. "Which is why Wade suggested we break out these." She pointed to a pair of what appeared to be ordinary earbuds, but were a great deal more advanced.

"Reactive noise-cancelling headphones," she continued, answering his unasked question. "They counteract the noise that artifact produces before the soundwaves can penetrate the inner ear canal. Can't hear a thing when you use it."

"Am I to presume that you also can't hear what I'm saying right now?"

She smiled. "They only cancel out sounds over 120 decibels, which is when sound starts to hurt. You don't talk that loud."

"I'm impressed, Miss Possible. It appears you've been paying attention in your science classes."

"Yeah, I thought these were just radio headsets," said Ron.

"Well, Wade _does_ include a manual with every gadget. I keep up to date on some of the latest science."

Monkey Fist held the horn threateningly in his hands and stared. "Then you are surely also aware that when sound waves are released in a concentrated pattern over a sustained period of time, they can generate vibrations strong enough to tunnel through solid rock."

"That how you got through the outer wall of the prison when Shego escaped?"

"Indeed. Allow me to demonstrate."

That was all the warning they received before he raised the horn to his lips again and blew, only this time the wall behind them exploded into dust.

"You call _that_ a sustained period of time?" asked a bewildered Ron.

"The laws of physics don't apply to mystical artifacts," his girlfriend quipped before yanking him out of the way of another blast.

"This won't actually kill you, you know," Monkey Fist said while slowly advancing. "This particular frequency resonates with the stones that make up this structure. It _will_ still hurt, however."

"Why not just kill us?"

He glared. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

"Rufus, disarm!" Ron commanded, and the naked mole rat scurried off to carry out the order. The two of them narrowly dodged another sonic burst, with Kim's deft cartwheel proving more graceful than his desperate scrambling.

As Rufus drew closer, Monkey Fist turned his aim on the small rodent, but he proved elusive and was soon within biting distance.

"If only I hadn't left the monkey ninjas at the hideout," he lamented, quickly dodging Rufus' attacks, which mainly consisted of hurling himself at Fiske like a ballistic missile. "Then I wouldn't have to lower myself to fighting lesser life forms."

"Hey, naked mole rats are way superior to monkeys!" said Ron, taking personal offense to that remark.

"Yeah, Rufus is totally smarter than you," agreed Kim as she materialized behind him, swinging a punch that he easily ducked, leaving him open to a strike by Rufus. He was forced to block with his open hand, while Kim grabbed at the horn.

Catching Rufus with one hand, he balled his right foot into a fist and struck out at Kim's stomach, where she intercepted it and twisted hard. Monkey Fist spun the rest of his body in sync, hurling the naked mole rat in Ron's direction while grabbing at her hair with his other foot. She raised an arm to deflect, so he simply grabbed her forearm instead and countered the throw, spinning her around once and sending her crashing into the floor.

When Ron instinctively rushed toward her, Monkey Fist raised the horn to his lips again and blew, sending another sonic blast in his direction. Ron screamed and hit the deck, while the shrieking tunnel of sound obliterated the wall behind him and continued into the next room.

On the other side of the hole, bathed in sunlight, was the Staff of Sun Wukong.

Kim was already back on her feet, and the two masters resumed their deadly ballet. Monkey Kung Fu had proven difficult for Kim to practice because it relied heavily on feints and making your opponent underestimate you, whereas she preferred more direct styles of combat. Still, her encounters with Monkey Fist over the years had made her adept at keeping up.

When she did come across him, she was often left wondering why he had chosen the style at all, outside of the general simian obsession. He was a straightforward, aggressive fighter, often pursuing his targets with speed and ferocity. He relied heavily on his extra set of hands to execute maneuvers that would otherwise be impossible, such as when he had countered her throw earlier. But overall, he fought in such a way that could have been accomplished just as easily by any other style.

It was a style that was far more suited to Ron, who had never kept pace with her in other disciplines. Most people didn't believe Ron could even take a punch, much less deliver one. But there had been too many times when Ron managed to outmaneuver a larger, tougher, faster opponent, almost always by accident. He would trip at just the right moment, or use some piece of the environment in his favor, and emerge victorious even though logic dictated he should have gotten his ass handed to him. He didn't deliberately entrap them in the way that Tai Sheng Pek Kwar demanded, but many skilled fighters had lost to Ron Stoppable because they assumed that he didn't pose a threat.

And most of the time, that fighter happened to be Monkey Fist.

"Ron, get the staff!" she ordered, trying to keep from disappearing too far into her thoughts in the middle of a fight. She leaned back to avoid an axe hand blow from Monkey Fist, then dipped to the side, narrowly dodging a punch delivered via his foot. When he jumped into the air to deliver a flying hook kick, she sprung her trap, grabbing both of his ankles and twirling her arms around in a circle, making him spin more quickly than he had prepared for. He fell awkwardly to the ground.

Rufus sprang into action, grabbing the Horn of a Thousand Shrieking Monkeys as it tumbled from his hand, then delivered it to Kim.

"So how does this work? You just puff up your lips and..." He kicked her legs out from under her right as she blew, sending a column of sound into the ceiling. The falling rubble barely missed her as she rolled out of the way.

"Kim, I got it!" shouted Ron from across the room, holding the Staff of Sun Wukong excitedly above his head as he ran. A loose stone tripped him, and time slowed as the four of them watched it fall.

There was a pause as it clattered to the ground, and then all of them exploded into motion as Kim, Ron, Monkey Fist and Rufus all scrambled to reach it first. As if it were fate, their hands touched it at the same moment, and then the artifact began to glow blue.

"What the…?" was all Kim had time to say before the world around them disappeared.

* * *

The Chamber of the Heaven's Eye had a different vibe than Shego expected. Large stone statues decorated the room in a spiral pattern, depicting various animals and spirits, most of them simian-related. There were various pillars spaced between them, with a group of eight forming a circle in the center of the room. Above her, suspended between four figures carved from the finest jade, was the Heaven's Eye.

It was spherical, obsidian in color, and could easily fit in the palm of one's hand. According to the description Monkey Fist had given her, it allowed for instant teleportation up to a distance of five hundred meters. It would certainly make getting around less of a hassle. If only she could divine a way to reach it.

But, she decided as she felt the air subtly shift behind her, that would have to wait.

Spinning once to the left, she easily dodged the furious Japanese teenager dressed in black whose sneak attack had just failed. Abandoning the assault, she transitioned quickly into a roll and returned to her feet.

"You!" shouted the ninja, with a raging inferno behind her eyes. "You will pay for what you did to my sister!"

Shego stared back, unimpressed. "Wait, I'm confused. Is this one of those blast from the past deals or is it something I did today?"

"You do not remember the woman whose life you nearly took only half an hour ago?"

"Whoa, hey, I just knocked her out." She put her hands in front of her, then formed her fingers into a frame and centered the younger woman's head between them, squeezing one eye shut. "But you know what, yeah, I can kinda see the family resemblance. Who are you again?"

"I am Yori of the Nakamura Clan," she answered, unsheathing her name like a sword. "And today I will make you pay for harming my family."

"Okay, chill. Like I said, I just knocked your sister's ass around because she was in my way. No need to get all Kill Bill on me."

Yori produced her fans.

"Guess they don't do talking much on your planet," Shego remarked, flaring up her hands in kind.

"I have no further words for an honorless thief."

"Yeah, first of all, honor? Overrated. Two, that was like nine words right there."

Yori growled and charged forward. "I am finished discussing this!"

"Five more words right there," Shego needled as she effortlessly sidestepped the telegraphed attack.

"You talk like a child in the schoolyard!" The ninja spun around, leveling one of her fans at her neck. Shego ducked, then threw up her arms as Yori slashed hard with both fans. The glow shielded her from the steel blades hidden within the lacquered wood. She put distance between them by kicking the angry young woman in the stomach, shoving her back.

"Right, because _you're_ so mature."

"Rrgh!" Yori spun with her arms extended, tilted on an axis as she moved forward, a fan in each hand. Shego did one quick spin and sidestep of her own to avoid the cyclone, which bit a chunk out of a nearby pillar.

"Look, as someone with a lot of experience channeling emotion, I get what you're trying to do." She ducked and weaved out of the way of the furious, inelegant slashes that contrasted the easy, flowing style demanded by the tessen that her opponent wielded. "But if I can share one word of wisdom about anger, it's this."

Intercepting a swipe at the wrist with a hand that was no longer glowing, Shego rushed in close and pivoted, driving an elbow into Yori's stomach, then raised her leg over her head, kicking the other girl in the face. Placing one leg between her opponent's ankles and shifting her weight, Shego grabbed her arm with both hands, then hurled Yori over her head and across the room, having robbed her of both her fans in the process.

"Either you control it, or it controls you."

Yori stood and inhaled deeply, then breathed out through her mouth, letting the anger leave her body like smoke. "You are correct. My apologies for losing my temper." She assumed a ready stance. "I shall attempt to pummel you in a more civilized manner."

"Great, now you're boring. Kimmie never had a problem with the banter."

"I see your strategy now. You chatter endlessly both to irritate your opponent and to appear as though you are not fully devoting yourself to the fight."

"Only when I'm fighting annoying princess types." Shego examined her claws like they were her real nails. "I can be quiet when someone's really serious. Your sister didn't get a word out of me."

She smirked. "Then I shall endeavor to shut you up."

"Bring it, little miss ninja."

Yori produced a smoke bomb and threw it between them, disappearing among the multitude of statues. Shego began to move, keeping a wary eye on her surroundings. Sensing movement behind her, she obliterated one of the stone figures with a blast of her glow, but the ninja had already moved on to the next hiding place.

"Being sneaky now, huh? You know, one of my brothers liked to do that."

Two more statues exploded in a burst of green light, revealing nothing behind them. Shego extinguished her glow and stood still, focusing her senses. She heard wind brush gently against cloth behind and above her and pivoted quickly, sucker-punching Yori square in the gut. Grabbing the back of her tunic, she completed her rotation and hurled the young ninja across the room.

"Oof!" She crashed through one of the statues, bisecting the stone figure and producing a tremendous cloud of dust. Shego leaped high into the air with her hands ablaze, clearing the dust with the force of her landing. But Yori had already returned to the shadows.

"Of course, it never worked."

"I will admit that you have skill." Yori's voice echoed throughout the chamber, without betraying her position. "This makes Possible-san's victories against you all the more impressive."

"Hey, most of the time Kimmie and I just fight to a standstill until Drakken's lair blows up." She paused as something occurred to her. "Wait, you know Kim Possible?"

"I enlisted her help for this mission. Consider yourself fortunate that you encountered me instead of her."

"Yeah, she's the one who should count herself lucky. I've got me an entire skeleton's worth of bones to pick."

Her ears detected several shuriken heading her way, and Shego neutralized them with a wide swipe of her glow. Another volley came from the shadows, and she cartwheeled out of the way before returning fire. The bolts bounced harmlessly off the stone that Yori had long since abandoned.

"Oh come on, the embarrassment ninjas fought better than this," Shego complained. "Your sister was able to give me a run for my money, but you're not even in my league."

"Do not mention my sister again!" Yori shouted, materializing out of nowhere and slashing vertically with one of her tessen, which she had somehow recovered. Shego hopped backwards, and the ninja struck nothing but air.

"Wow, I can't even compliment her, huh?" She ducked and dodged another flurry of swipes and kicks, offering the occasional parry but otherwise not striking back, preferring to let her opponent tire and grow reckless. "So much for staying civilized."

Spotting an opening, she lashed out with a devastating side kick, followed by a knee to the face and a flying hook kick that struck Yori square in the temple and sent her reeling to the side. She finished the combo with a glowing bolt that landed dead center in the other girl's chest and slammed her into a stone pillar.

Yori put a hand to her chest and winced, amazed that she had survived a direct hit from the same energy that had been blowing statues to smithereens. Either Shego was intentionally dialing back her powers or they weren't nearly as devastating against organic matter.

"It is true; you do seem to bring out a side of me that I do not often express." She staggered around for a few seconds before she found her footing again. "I can remain dispassionate about a great many things, but not my family."

Shego's eyes widened with delight. "Ooh, am I sensing some tragic backstory? Did you get orphaned and grow up fighting street gangs? Did you rebel against your parents? Come on, make yourself more interesting."

"I will never share details of my past with one so irreverent as you!" Yori exclaimed, folding up one of her tessen and hurling it at Shego's face. She dipped her head to the side, and it embedded itself in the stone behind her. Rushing forward, Yori leaped into the air and spun as she moved downward, swiping her other fan in a long horizontal arc.

"Yeah, you're right; it's probably a boring story anyway." Shego rolled out of the way, and Yori retrieved her other fan before pursuing her once more. "Winding you up is the only thing keeping me entertained right now."

"Rrrh!" Yori disappeared in another puff of smoke, and the other woman flared up her hands and began the search anew.

"Take care how you taunt, Shego," she threatened from somewhere in the room. "From what I have gathered, the last time you upset your opponent this greatly, it did not end well for you."

"Yeah, well there's two things wrong with that statement," Shego fired back. "One, the incident you're referring to involved a giant signal tower, and I don't think you've got any of those in your little bag of ninja tricks. Two, you're not nearly as good a fighter as Kimmie."

"Did it involve a mystical artifact that allows for teleportation?" Yori spoke into her ear.

"No, what does that have to do with—"

And suddenly she was twenty feet above the ground.

* * *

The first thing Kim became aware of was that she was floating hundreds of feet above the earth. A mountain rose beneath her feet, in exactly the same way the world formed around her in a dream. Ron, Rufus and Monkey Fist arrived in a similar fashion, materializing suddenly while at the same time it felt as though they had been there all along. The shock of this new reality had evidently removed their will to fight each other, so for a moment, they stood transfixed on the peak of the mountain.

"Where are we?" Her question was directed less at them and more at the universe in general.

"Your bodies are still in the Arsenal of the Ancients," answered a mysterious, smiling bald man who was both newly arrived and had been present the whole time. A monkey was perched on his shoulder, clutching a scroll. "But your minds have travelled to a realm that exists outside of your universe. It is a place of convergence where critical knowledge is given."

"Who are you?" asked Ron.

Before the man could answer, Monkey Fist spoke. "He is the Mystical Monkey Monk. He delivered the prophecy which led my monkey ninjas and I to hijack Frederick's mission to the International Space Station." His eyes narrowed. "He told me that once we reached the stars, the ultimate monkey master would be unstoppable."

"Ah!" The Mystical Monkey Monk raised a finger. "That was a mistranslation. The prophecy actually stated that the leader of the monkey ninjas would be _Ron_ Stoppable."

"That's me!" Ron pointed to his chest. "Wait, is that why I couldn't get rid of those monkey ninjas for like a month after that?"

"I had to buy their loyalty back," Monkey Fist said, slumping forward.

"Buy it with what?"

"I staged a hostile takeover of a major banana supplier. I still own it, actually."

"Well, with the family fortune wasted on all that surgery, I guess any income helps," said Kim.

He glared.

"Why did that artifact bring us here?" Ron asked.

"It sensed the Mystical Monkey Power. Your destiny is at hand."

Monkey fist became outraged. " _His_ destiny?! What about mine?"

"This concerns all of you," the Mystical Monkey Monk replied, entirely unbothered by the display. "Your world will soon be under attack."

"Yeah, that happens on more or less a monthly basis." Kim stood there with one hand on her hip, examining the back of her gloved hand to appear more aloof. "We got it covered."

"This is not like one of your supervillain attacks, which amount to little more than frivolity in the grand scheme of things."

Monkey Fist grumbled something unintelligible.

"What do you mean attack?"

"Your world will soon face an invasion by a hostile enemy. The Arsenal is your only defense against them."

"Explain."

The world around them transformed from a tranquil, mist-filled mountain range to a cragged, scorched wasteland. Fires raged and mysterious craft patrolled the sky. It was everything one could expect from an apocalyptic prophecy.

"This is what awaits your world if you fail to perform your destiny. The invaders are coming, and they will not be content to simply conquer your world like so many supervillains have tried. Their goal is total annihilation."

"Why?" asked Kim.

"The event that leads to this has yet to occur."

"When will it?"

"The invaders will first send a scout. When your paths intertwine with theirs, it will set everything in motion. I only hope that warning you will help you to prepare for what follows."

"We will require more detail than that," said Monkey Fist.

"It is within your power to figure it out. I know not exactly who or exactly when, but I do know it will occur within the next year. The rest is up to you."

"What do you need us to do?" asked Ron.

"I will pass on what knowledge I have. Come forward and receive your wisdom."

Ron started to move, but Monkey Fist cut in front of him. "Me first."

A winding trail of blue energy travelled from the Mystical Monkey Monk's outstretched palm, enveloping Monkey Fist's body before being absorbed. Ron came forward next, and the ritual was repeated. Rufus was the third.

Kim stepped forward. "And now me, I guess?" She was halted by a raised finger.

"Wait," the Mystical Monkey Monk said as he consulted the scroll. "It appears there has been an error. Kim Possible, you have not been touched by the Mystical Monkey Power."

Kim shrugged. "Yeah, so?"

"The night that Ron confronted Monkey Fist, you were supposed to accompany him," he explained. "Events were arranged such that all four of you would obtain the Mystical Monkey Power, in order to fight off the coming threat. But instead, you sent a hologram in your place." He glared at the monkey on his shoulder. "There is supposed to be a screening process for these sorts of things, but it appears _somebody_ overlooked this fact."

"Wait, you're telling me you planned that?"

"Not me. But the wheels of destiny were set in motion the moment you removed the jade monkey from the temple in Cambodia. You did not follow the plan that was outlined for you."

"How could I when I didn't know there _was_ a plan?"

"Please understand, what is written in the annals of destiny must come to pass. However, there are certain individuals who manage to stray from the path that is prescribed for them, often without meaning to. These individuals are troublesome and must be... dealt with."

"Dealt with?"

"With what the future holds, we require certainty. We cannot afford to monitor Wildflowers, and so they must be pulled out by the root."

"So just because I spent the evening with Cousin Larry, which I didn't even want to do in the first place, I'm not worthy of the info you just gave us? I save the world all the time, how is this any different?"

"I do apologize, but there are rules," he said, tucking the scroll back inside his robe. His jolly expression had transmuted into something cold and unsettling. "On top of defying your destiny, you dared to touch the artifact without having completed the task that would have made you worthy of it. You must pay for this transgression."

She looked back at him nervously. "With what?"

"Your life."

The vision was ripped violently from her and she found herself transplanted back in the temple. Ron stood across from her, still clutching the staff.

"Well that was rude," she said. "I'm gonna save the world anyway just to spite that guy. What do you say, Ron?"

She received no answer.

"Ron?"

His eyelids opened, but his warm brown pupils had been replaced with an otherworldly blue glow that seemed to come from her deepest nightmares. In the space of a moment, a shockwave blasted her, Rufus and Monkey Fist across the room. The latter two remained unconscious, while Kim stood up slowly as Ron advanced towards her, having abandoned the staff on the floor.

"Uh, Ron? What's going on? Can you still hear me?"

He did not speak, but the punch heading her way told her everything she needed to know.

* * *

As she dangled from the ceiling, Shego reflected on her most embarrassing moments. After some deliberation, she decided that this ranked in third place.

"When did you grab that thing?" she demanded of Yori, who was holding her by the ankle while clinging to a rope attached to the ceiling by a grappling hook.

"The moment you grew overconfident and took your eyes off of it."

"Wait, is this why you weren't in any of the places I was aiming?"

Yori chuckled. "That was simply the result of good training."

"Yeah, I'm gonna need you to put me down now."

"Again, you should be careful how you phrase things." The hand clutching her ankle opened, and Shego fell.

Yori's fist was waiting for her down below, having teleported there as soon as she dropped her. A quick uppercut knocked the wind from her lungs, and then the ninja was above her, flipping forward once before her leg smacked hard into Shego's lower back. She hit the stone with a not entirely healthy thud.

"Had enough?"

Shego rose in a whirlwind of green, firing bolts in every direction and decimating the ancient statues. Yori was everywhere and nowhere, and always where the green was not. Materializing behind Shego, she sent her stumbling forward with a kick, then teleported in front of her and clotheslined the other woman, sending her to the floor.

"Ugh, you fight dirty."

"I am simply leveling the playing field. Your powers make you too dangerous to engage on your own terms."

"Never stopped Kim."

"Possible-san is admittedly far better at straightforward engagements," Yori admitted. "Whereas I am trained to strike where I am least expected."

Shego sat up, rubbing her head. "Which _totally_ explains why you charged in here demanding blood vengeance for a sister I only knocked unconscious. She didn't even get a concussion."

"How would you know?"

"I didn't kick her hard enough." She stood up, wobbling a bit before finding her footing. "Look, can we call a five minute truce or something? I'm waiting for the room to stop spinning."

Yori crossed her arms. "Very well. Perhaps I was hasty in assuming you meant my sister serious harm."

"Hey, I fought a giant robot flamingo to save my brothers, and I don't even like them all that much. I don't blame you for reacting that way over family."

"My family is complicated." She looked away. "My only good relationship is with my sister. When I saw that threatened, I became unable to control my anger."

"Something you've worked hard to keep a lid on, I take it?"

Her head whipped around and she glared hard at Shego.

"What? Hey, as someone with anger issues of her own, I know that nobody snaps that quick unless they've had trouble dealing with it in the past."

"I do not know why I'm even talking to you about this."

"Not used to connecting with your enemies?" She leaned back against a pillar. "Hey, it's weird for me too. I don't even know you."

Yori leaned back next to her. "Perhaps that is what makes it so easy."

"Maybe."

They heard a distant thud from a few rooms over. "Look, I don't have any personal stake in this, and I'm not about to keep fighting a losing battle. You can keep the stupid artifact. I'm gonna go see what's happening with my boss."

"Possible-san and Stoppable-san may require my aid," said Yori. "Grab my hand."

"Say what?"

Yori gripped her shoulder, and after a sudden lurch, her surroundings changed completely. Even if she had gotten here by walking, nothing could have prepared her for the sight before her.

"Kim... I'm sorry. I said I'd never let this happen again, but it did. It happened again and I couldn't stop it."

Stoppable was leaning over what she assumed was Kim, which was difficult to tell under all the blood and extreme bruising. Her right arm was bent at an unnatural angle, and her breaths were shallow, which meant that her lungs were filling with fluid. His pet rodent stood on her other side with worry on his face.

Yori was by his side in an instant, but she didn't teleport. "What happened, Stoppable-san?"

"I couldn't stop it," he said with an odd lack of emotion. To an untrained bystander, that would have been extremely strange. But Shego knew what shock looked like, and given how close he was with Possible it didn't take a genius to deduce that his mind could not handle the emotional stress and had temporarily shut down to protect itself.

Since questioning him was now useless, Shego examined the scene before her. Based on the level of destruction, there had to be a superhuman player involved. Monkey Fist was still unconscious in the corner, and although he was extremely skilled, whatever had left holes in stone had to be at least on her level, if not stronger. Monkey Fist and Kim were evenly matched, and he would not be capable of reducing her to this state.

A temple guardian perhaps? But why leave Stoppable virtually unscathed? Not only did he stand considerably less of a chance against pretty much anything than Kim, he was blindly loyal enough to take that kind of bullet for her. He also blamed himself, as though he played some role in what happened to her. It could just be survivor's guilt, but he spoke as though he was directly responsible.

She rid her head of the idea as soon as it entered. Ron Stoppable doing that much damage to anybody, much less Kim Possible? Her mind balked at the concept. Even if he was capable of that, he wouldn't.

"I couldn't stop it," he repeated.

"You could not stop what, Stoppable-san?"

He did not answer.

"He's in shock," Shego told her. "You're not gonna get anything useful out of him. I'd be more worried about her. If you don't get her medical attention in the next twenty minutes, she's gonna drown in her own blood."

Yori nodded. "Stoppable-san, we must leave immediately."

He shook his head. "No. I can't go with you. You need to take her away. You need to protect her."

"Protect her from whom?"

"From me."

Before she could ask him to elaborate, Stoppable's pet naked mole rat grabbed the Heaven's Eye and, touching Kim and Yori, teleported the three of them away from the temple.

As soon as they were gone, Stoppable collapsed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the pre-written chapters. I've written large chunks of the chapters that follow, but I still need to finish them and put them through the editing process. How long that takes depends on the kind of response I get to this story. I'm not holding the story hostage; it's just that writers tend to be more motivated when they know people actually want to read their stuff.
> 
> See you all in the New Year.


	4. Power Vacuum

Emerald spears of sinister lightning scorched the dark and craggy landscape, revealing scant glimpses of a tremendous citadel that otherwise cast an intimidating shadow on its barren surroundings. Despite the lethal atmosphere, dragons the size of small houses circled the enormous towers, unperturbed by the everlasting storm.

Plumes of lava shot up like fiery geysers all across the landscape. If there was a pattern, it could only be observed by some higher power. Vaguely humanoid shapes made of the same lava roamed the land in packs, ready to immolate any intruders.

Runemaster42 gulped, and ducked back behind the large boulder where he and his party had taken refuge.

“It’s impossible,” he said. “Even if we avoid the lightning and the dragons, this whole area is volcanic. Underground steam vents, lava monsters, poison gas... it’s suicide.”

“It’s a ten star raid,” replied Kip_Everstrong, Kip for short. “A death wish is a prerequisite.”

“I dunno guys, I kinda want to get this done before this kid’s parents get home,” xxo_Ariella_oxx chimed in. “I’m not really sure I have time for a raid like this.”

“We’ll all be dead inside ten seconds anyway,” said Kip.

“Real optimistic, aren’t you?” said Runemaster42.

Zita Flores listened to the rest of the party bicker before finally adding her two cents. “Come on guys; we all beat The Wraithmaster last year. Can another player-created quest really be that hard?”

“The Wraithmaster is a total wuss compared to The Crone,” Kip responded. “No one’s even lasted long enough to _see_ her. The lightning always gets them first.”

“Look, one of you has to have a shielding spell that can last long enough to get us under the cover of those trees,” she insisted. “And I have some revival potions left.”

“That still leaves the dragons, the lava monsters, and the other environmental hazards I brought up.”

“I think Zita’s right,” said Felix Renton, his voice coming through loud and clear over her headset. “My Technomage can whip up a cloak that the dragons can’t see through and the lava monsters are low level enough that we can deal with them. Then we can storm the Citadel.”

“Thanks, honey. Now are we cowards, or Everlot players?”

“Everlot players!” everyone else shouted.

“Then let’s do this!”

Ariella initiated a shielding spell, while Felix generated a cloak. Zita headed up the rear, behind their tank, ready to heal whoever needed it. They reached the aforementioned trees after a tense two minutes, moving slowly enough to not disturb the lava monsters.

“Gate is in sight,” reported Felix. “Do we storm it?”

“No, let’s be smart about this. No one’s ever gotten far enough to see what’s behind it.”

“Well we can’t sneak past,” said Kip. “But if you get me close enough I can rush it before they know what hit ‘em.”

Kip played a Hearty Knight, one of the strongest tank classes in the game. He had more armor than the five of them combined, and could devastate entire groups up close before they ever did damage to him. Unfortunately, he was weak to elemental attacks, and he couldn’t do damage from anything other than close range.

Ariella was the healer, a Priestess from the High Order of Zanduron. In addition to mending their wounds, she could summon powerful shields to protect them. Runemaster42 was an Archer/Scout. He had range and mobility, but he was a glass cannon who would die if certain classes of enemy even looked at him funny.

Felix played a Technomage from the city of Exclaria. While far more technologically advanced than the rest of the settlements in Everlot, the city owed its power not to some future technology, but the ancient secrets of a far more advanced civilization. Given the space-age quality, some legends claimed that aliens had visited the area thousands of years before. Only a few were capable of unlocking the true potential of the technology.

As for Zita, she was still the She-Warrior of the Ice Mountain, striking down foes with the Sword of Elsinor. It was mostly a melee class, but she did have some wicked throwing knives.

“Okay then. Let’s keep moving slow until we’re right on top of it, then we break it down.”

The continued moving in tense silence, sneaking past the sentries and stealthily dispatching any minions that were too close to be fooled by the cloak. By the time they reached the gate, both the shield and the cloak had worn off and entered a cooldown state.

“Ready?” she asked, but before anyone could answer, a mischievous laugh echoed around them.

“What—” began Ariella.

“Is—” continued Runemaster42.

“That?” finished Kip.

The answer never came. Immediately after the laughter ceased, every bolt of lightning they’d avoided up to that point hit them all at once.

“Whoa!” Zita shouted as her character respawned at the nearest inn.

“Uh, guys, I think I’m gonna sign off in a bit,” said Ariella. “I think the kid’s crying. Must be hungry or something.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna go too,” agreed Kip. “That’s enough excitement for one night.”

“Same,” said Runemaster42. They logged off one after another, until only Zita and Felix were left.

Zita sighed and hung her head. “I miss having a local guild.”

“Not your fault we’re down a member.”

“I know. It’s just not as fun anymore.”

“I know what you mean. Hang out in real life tomorrow?”

“You got it.” They both signed off, and Zita moved over to her bed, lying down flat and staring at the ceiling. Something refused to leave her mind, even after she’d abandoned Everlot for the night.

That laugh sounded _familiar_.

* * *

**Chapter Three**  
Power Vacuum

* * *

“This is Tricia Lipowski reporting from Middleton,” the reporter on the tv set began. “It’s been two months since teen hero Kim Possible and her sidekick, Ron Stoppable, disappeared without a trace. Officials report that their searches have proven inconclusive, and the pair are still considered missing persons. If you have any information relating to the whereabouts of Kim Possible or Ron Stoppable, please call the number below.”

“Ugh, just turn that thing off,” Bonnie said as she folded another shirt. “They’ve been running the same story every day. We get it: they’re missing. Talk about something else.”

“You know they’re just making sure people don’t forget, right?”

She rolled her eyes. “They’re just making sure their ratings stay up. Missing heroes tend to make for juicy coverage.”

“Hey, Kim saved the world more times that I can remember. That includes _your_ ungrateful butt.”

“And now she’s gone. It’s been two whole months, can we just move on already?”

Monique finished folding another shirt and placed it on the pile. “Is the reason you’re being so insistent because you never liked Kim or because you don’t wanna admit you miss her?”

“Who says I miss her?”

“Don’t play the denial game with me, girl. I know you care more than you let on.”

Bonnie scoffed and placed another shirt on the pile. “Whatever. She wasn’t a _total_ pain in the neck. And she did run the cheer squad pretty well whenever she wasn’t jetting off to go rescue kittens from mudslides.”

“Uh-huh. You miss her.”

“So done talking about this.”

Monique smirked and they went back to folding shirts in silence.

A couple minutes later they heard someone enter, and Monique lifted her head to greet them. “Welcome to Club Banana!” she said cheerfully, if only to annoy Bonnie.

“Hey, Monique.”

“Oh, hey Zita.”

“You got a second?”

She ignored the pile of shirts for the time being. “Sure, what’s up?”

“So you know that Pain King versus Steel Toe Virtual Match this weekend?”

“Do I know it? I preordered my ticket and everything. Third row!”

“Well, you might wanna see about getting your money back, because I’ve got a couple backstage passes right here.” She produced said tickets from her pocket.

Monique had to remind herself that salivating on the floor was not professional behavior. “We’re not on some hidden camera show, right?”

“Nah. I got these for Kim and Ron, but...”

They both frowned.

“Anyway, these are for you and one other person.” Zita handed her the tickets. “And I’ve been handing out flyers all over the mall. Is it cool if I leave some on your counter?”

“Of course, girl. Thing is, I don’t really have another person to go with.” She tilted the tickets slightly in Bonnie’s direction. “I don’t suppose _you’d_ be interested?”

“In wrestling? _Gag_.” She mimed sticking a finger down her throat just in case they hadn’t gotten the message.

Shrugging, Monique pocketed the tickets. “I’m sure I’ll find somebody willing to go with me. Thanks, Zita.”

“Don’t mention it.” She deposited the flyers on the counter.

She was nearly out the door when a goateed man entered carrying what appeared to be a large super soaker and dragging a circular, tarp-covered clothing rack behind him. Zita was transfixed by the sight, and lingered if only to see what the man intended to do.

“Greetings, ladies,” he said in an obviously fake Eastern European accent. “My name is Frugal Lucre. I have come to see justice done to this establishment.”

If he had expected a crowd of terrified onlookers, the three women did not oblige. Bonnie was the first to speak.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“For too long, Club Banana has cultivated a sense of false superiority in its consumers, training them to believe that by paying thirty extra dollars for a banana logo, that they are somehow above the proletariat who shop at Smarty Mart, when in fact both companies are owned by an even larger conglomerate. They dance like puppets for their evil capitalist overlords.”

“Okay seriously, go see a vocal coach,” said Bonnie. “That accent is terrible.”

“Alright, fine!” he shouted in what sounded to be his natural voice, a nasally east coast dialect. “Do ya gotta ruin a guy’s mystique?”

“Not much there to ruin,” said Monique. “The hell is in that thing anyway, coffee?”

“It’s beef bouillon, actually,” he corrected, gesturing with the super soaker. “Have you ever tried to get the smell out? Ya can’t!”

“Ew...” they all said, shivering in unison.

“Hey, I remember you!” said Zita, pointing. “You’re that guy who tried to get everyone in the world to send you a dollar or you’d destroy the internet!”

Monique stroked her chin. “Yeah, what was your real name? I remember Kim told me.” She snapped her fingers. “Francis! Francis Lehrman.”

Francis clawed at his face in frustration, hurling his fake goatee to the ground. “Arrgh! Isn’t a guy entitled to a secret identity anymore?”

“Not easy to keep a secret when you do your broadcasts from the Smarty Mart break room. Some supervillain you are.”

“I’ve moved past all that!” he declared, sweeping his arm horizontally. He puffed out his chest and adjusted a non-existent tie. “Now I’m an _activist_!”

Zita tilted her head to the side. “An activist for... what?”

“I now protest the evils of consumerist capitalism, and rebel against overpriced merchandise in all its forms. Club Banana is among the worst examples of _literally_ paying for a logo.”

Bonnie regarded him with a bored stare. “So your plan is to harass two minimum wage employees and a single customer?”

“Not quite.” He pulled the tarp off the clothing rack behind him, revealing a device inside. “Behold, my Bouillon Bomb!”

“Your what now?” asked Monique.

“When the timer reaches zero, my Bouillon Bomb will cover this entire store in a thick, juicy coating of beef bouillon, causing thousands of dollars’ worth of ruined merchandise, not to mention the damage to the establishment itself.” He leaned forward excitedly and put a hand beside his mouth. “I got the idea from _Goldfinger_.”

Bonnie was still entirely nonplussed. “Okay, that’s gross, but I don’t see how it’s going to bring Club Banana to its knees.”

“The bomb is but a single drop of rain in a storm,” he revealed. “Right now, thousands of other bombs are counting down in stockrooms, warehouses, and fashion runways. When they detonate, all of Club Banana will fall!”

He dropped to one knee and posed dramatically with his arms held out wide. They blinked, unimpressed. Somewhere, a cricket chirped.

“You only built one, didn’t you?”

“Of course not, I...” He hung his head. “Yes.”

“Knew you didn’t have the budget.”

“Well it still works!” he said, standing and gesturing threateningly to the countdown. “My message will still be heard.”

“Hey guys, I got the mall cops,” said Zita, reentering the store flanked by two of Middleton Mall’s finest.

He turned around in shock. “What? How? _When_?”

“I ducked out in the middle of your crazy speech,” she told him, gesturing with her thumb over her shoulder. “Flagged these two down.”

“Sir, put _down_ the super soaker, and step away from the device,” one of the security guards ordered.

“Never! I’m going out in a blaze of glory! I will be—aah!” Bonnie snatched the super soaker away, while Monique and Zita were already wheeling the Bouillon Bomb out of the store. “No wait, come back!”

“Shove it in Hot Topic, no one will notice if those clothes start smelling like old meat!” Bonnie shouted, keeping the gun trained on Lucre while the mall cops restrained him.

“Do you have any idea how many coupons I had to redeem to get that much bouillon now that I don’t have my employee discount?” he whined. “There will be justice!”

“You can say that again,” she replied, pumping the super soaker. “Stand back, boys.”

The security guards wisely took a few steps back.

“Wait, I...” He trailed off as she finished pumping.

She pulled the trigger, drenching him from head to toe until there was nothing left in the tank. By this time Monique and Zita had returned.

“Hey, I disarmed the device!” said Zita. “Aaaand you already soaked him.”

Bonnie rested the gun against her shoulder. “He comes into _my_ store and threatens to stink up all our merchandise, then expects to get away dry? I don’t think so.”

“Well you could have put down a towel or something,” said Monique. “Or at least saved some for the rest of us.”

“Whatever. Take him away, boys.”

The security guards grabbed him by the arms and led a thoroughly humiliated Lucre away. As he was dragged back toward captivity, he spied one of the flyers that Zita had left on the counter earlier. A new plan began to form.

“Hmmmm...”

* * *

Five Emperors of Bernilus stood on the shelf. None of them were aware of the others’ presence, and each was therefore lord of all he surveyed. They were forced to reorganize as a sixth version joined their ranks.

“There, that should do nicely,” said the master of the collection, a nasal-voiced man approaching twenty-five. The light flowing strongly in through the windows belied the cave-like nature of the room, which its sole inhabitant rarely left. At the center of the back wall was a portal that ensured he was never completely cut off from the world, and he still ventured out more often than the next nerdiest person his cousin knew.

“Hey Larry,” greeted the Filipina teenager entering his room. “Finally got the last in the set?”

“Yes, this version of the Emperor is from the Battle of Throgg, where he personally led the charge that routed the Zorblaxian forces. Note the authentic battle damage on the armor.”

“Very nice,” she said, leaning in to examine it. “You got a minute?”

“Anything for you, Miss Flores,” he replied. “After all the help you provided with the ZombieLot project I am always at your disposal.”

“Well, I’m here to do you a favor, actually,” she said, fishing a ticket out of her pocket. “It’s for the Pain King versus Steel Toe Virtual Match. I know wrestling’s not usually your thing, but I figured the VR technology on display might pique your interest.”

“Au contraire,” he rebutted as he grabbed the ticket, adjusting his glasses to get a better look. “I have long been a fan of the dramatic stories and entertaining characters provided by professional wrestling. The fights may be staged, but their skill is real.”

Zita crossed her arms and smirked. “Ron got you into it, didn’t he?”

He chuckled. “I do also compete in the Robot Rumble. It’s not that far outside my comfort zone.”

“Well I’m glad you’re coming. I was looking forward to Kim and Ron being there, but after two months...”

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “If there’s one thing I know about my cousin, it’s that she always finds a way out. She and Ron will be back at some point.”

“I know. Thanks, Larry.” He removed the hand. “Anyway, enough about that. Since you mentioned it, how _is_ ZombieLot coming?”

“Well, I released the alpha version to the community at large last month, and it’s in beta right now. I was on track to completing it when I received this in the mail.” He walked over to his computer desk and retrieved a sheet of paper with an intimidating amount of text.

“It’s a Cease and Desist,” Zita realized as she read it. “Everlot Inc is threatening to bury the project with an injunction if you release it.” She hurled it to the ground. “What the _hell_?!”

“It came as a shock to me too,” said Larry. “Everlot Inc has always been incredibly supportive of its mod community.”

“I’ll talk with Dr. Needius at the match,” she promised. “See if I can at least find out the reason.”

“That won’t be necessary,” he responded. “Seeing as I already released it earlier today.”

“You _what_? Larry, you could get sued!”

“Relax, I rerouted the IP through a dozen servers and used a dummy account. As far as the community is concerned it was a leak.”

Zita raised an eyebrow of suspicion. “Where did you get the tech to do that?”

“From a mystery assistant who’s been helping me code the final version of the software for the last month,” he revealed. “Total enigma. I think he’s Russian, but I can’t really know for sure. Promised me that he could get it released completely anonymously.”

“I don’t know, this whole thing sounds kinda shady. Besides, you don’t even get credit!”

He shrugged. “Why not? I still coded the thing. And it’s not about credit anyway.”

“I guess you’re right. But I stand by my statement that this is seriously sketchy.”           

“Your concern is noted. I’ll see you at the match regardless.”

“Thanks. I’ve got a few more errands to run so I gotta go. Stay out of trouble, okay?”

He bowed slightly. “Your wish is my command.”

She laughed. “And stop being such a nerd.”

Larry smirked. “I will make no such promises.”

* * *

Some things just should _not_ run on rocket fuel.

There had been a time when Dr. James Possible had not held that sentiment. He believed the opposite most strongly during his teenage years, camped out in his big backyard in Montana lighting a fuse and running like hell every night for three summers in a row.

That enthusiasm had gotten him through grad school, and carried him through internships and long hours spent hunched over blueprints trying to calculate precise curvature so that creations far more expensive than those backyard bottle rockets wouldn’t explode before they got where they were going. Seeing the space travel applications in everything had made him exceptional at his job. He had believed, at the time, that there was nothing that could not be improved with the addition of rockets.

Then he had kids.

“Jim, Tim, I’m warning you: do _not_ launch the barbeque grill into space.” That thing had been his father’s day present a few years back, and they didn’t even make that model anymore.

“But we wanted space burgers!” said Tim.

“Yeah, the solar radiation will cook the patties _way_ faster than fire!”

He sighed. “And how do you plan on getting the grill _back_ from outer space?”

“With the re-entry rockets!” the twins said in unison.

“They’ll automatically kick in after the radiation totally fries the burgers into juicy deliciousness!”

“Wait, you managed to build a multi-stage rocket with re-entry capability on an object that small?” he asked, then shook his head before their admittedly impressive engineering could distract him further. “Never mind that. You’re _not_ making space burgers.”

“Why not?”

“Have you ever tasted a burger from a microwave?” asked a voice behind him. “It gets dry and tasteless enough with regular radiation. All you’ll end up doing to those patties is turn them into charcoal.”

He turned around to greet the new arrival. “Monique! You’re just in time. Help me talk some sense into these two.”

“I’m pretty sure I just did,” she replied, nodding to the twins, who were already detaching the rockets.

“I guess we’ll just go back to fixing up the car,” said Jim.

“I call shotgun!” replied Tim, and they raced each other to the garage.

Well, that was one crisis averted.

“So what brings you by?”

“I was actually looking for your wife. She around?”

Dr. Possible shook his head. “One of her surgeries got moved up and she had to leave in a hurry. I can give her a message if you want.”

“That’s okay. I can try back later.” She reached into her pockets and produced a pair of tickets. “Since I’m here though, I was wondering if Jim and Tim would be interested in the GWA match this weekend. These are backstage, which is nice and all, but I already bought one for myself and I can’t find anyone else to go with me so I don’t actually need ‘em.”

“Well, that’s awfully considerate of you, Monique, but the boys are grounded for the month. This isn’t the first thing they’ve tried launching into space.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“Let’s just say I had to buy Janice next door a new dog house. Thankfully it wasn’t occupied at the time of launch.”

She chuckled. “Well, I’m sure I’ll find these tickets a nice home sooner or later. Tell your wife I said hi.” She started to leave, then turned around. “Hey, Dr. Possible?”

“Yes?”

“Hang in there. I’m sure Kim will find her way back.”

He released a breath he didn’t know he was holding and smiled wistfully, staring at the sky. “She always does.”

* * *

He was overqualified for this.

No, that expression didn’t do it justice. So great was his genius, so mighty was his intellect, that he should not have been forced to even consider performing such a menial task. If he was running the world, he would never dream of subjecting himself to this.

But he was not running the world, and desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Have you ever done this sort of work before?” asked the middle-aged woman sitting across from him who was overdue for her next perm. That was the most difficult part of playing this sort of charade: going along with the notion that people like this were above him.

He let none of this make its way to his face, his lips spreading easily into a charming smile. “Not this specifically. But I am familiar with all the systems, and I know my way around hardware like this. You can see in my resume I come highly recommended.”

In truth, he didn’t. But nothing on his resume was the whole truth. Certainly not his name.

“Well, Mister Cash, we don’t usually hire this close to an event, but our normal guy came down with some sort of food poisoning at the last minute.”

“Oh, how unfortunate. Will he be alright?”

“The doctors think so. They said it was some sort of expired meat.”

“Well, I don’t expect to stick around forever. I hope he gets well soon.”

“It’s appreciated. And you’re right, you do come highly recommended. Your resume somehow ended up being the first one in my email.”

“Lucky me.”

“Yes, lucky you. Of course, you’ll have a lot of catching up to do. But welcome aboard.” She stood and extended her hand.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, rising to shake it. “You’re getting quite a bargain.”

* * *

The Middleton Museum of Art and History was a recent addition to the city, but a welcome one. Most of the major buildings that had gone up in the last five years were research labs, factories, and top secret government buildings. If nothing else, the Arts and Leisure reporter at the local newspaper had something new to write about.

Bonnie Rockwaller, however, was not impressed.

“Does Middleton really need _another_ museum?”

“What do you mean?”

“We already _have_ an Art Museum, and a History Museum. Why do we need one for both?”

“Well, the other two are shutting down ‘cause of city budget cuts. This one’s privately owned. Besides, it’s good to get a little culture. You spend way too much time at that mall.”

“I dance ballet. I’m already cultured.”                                                                                                                                

“Touché.”

“And if it’s privately owned why hasn’t whoever funded it plastered their name all over everything?”

“Who knows? Maybe they like their privacy.”

“This is gonna attract a whole new class of criminal, you know. That low budget reject was only the first of Kim’s old bad guys to come sniffing around here. Setting up a building full of priceless, themed artifacts? That’s just begging for someone to try and pull a heist.”

“Wow, you really do miss her.”

“All I’m saying is if these freakos are gonna come around here and make a mess, maybe Kim’s not the only one who can clean it up, you know? We don’t need her.”

“You sure about that?”

“Hey, you saw how easy we took that guy down. If Kim can fight crime with cheerleading, then so can I.”

“Yeah, but that’s a guy who uses super soakers and coupons. What are you gonna do if Dr. Drakken shows up?”

Bonnie shrugged. “We’ll figure it out if it comes to that. I’m serious, though. I can be twice the hero Kim ever was.”

“Uh-huh. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Rockwaller.”

Grumbling something unintelligible, she followed her to the first exhibit, a collection of antique pottery from various civilizations. What was so special about a bunch of old pots, anyway? Maybe it wasn’t too late to go grab smoothies with Tara.

No. She wasn’t ready to show her face around the cheer squad yet. Not until she had made something of herself.

Was she serious about the hero thing? Kim had always made it look easy, but Bonnie knew how much pressure the other girl had to be putting herself under with so many pots on the boil. It was a wonder she didn’t collapse under the weight of everything she was juggling. Hell, _she_ couldn’t even balance work and Cheer.

No, that wasn’t it. It was more that she couldn’t reconcile the two. Cheer was something she could afford to do while she was still preparing to move into the “real world” that her parents were always talking about. Getting a job pulled her further out that door, and she couldn’t have her mind in two realities at once.

It didn’t help that things had not been the same since prom. Bonnie had never been proven so utterly _wrong_ about something before. Kim dating the biggest loser in school was supposed to make her a laughingstock, but instead everybody cheered. And why wouldn’t they? Everyone else had accepted the two of them as friends for years.

Brick was gone. She dumped him after realizing that he didn’t fit into her new life either. Dumb loser couldn’t even get into college because his grades were so bad. It was a wonder he graduated at all. He was tying her down, and she needed to move on.

But in the process, Bonnie had isolated herself almost entirely. Which was why she agreed to go on this dumb museum trip with Monique. It was time to branch out and make new friends for her new life. Then she could go back to everyone she used to know and show them how much more grown up she was. Cheer was so last year.

And if she could present herself to them as a world famous hero, so much the better. Kim who?

They were at the gift shop by the time Monique shook her shoulder to snap her out of her trance. “Hey, earth to Bonnie. You wanna get anything?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Just thought I’d check. The calendars look pretty nice.”

She dangled one of said calendars between her thumb and index finger, swinging it idly from side to side. “Yeah, if you’re someone’s grandma. Why does everything in museums have to be so _old_?”

“That’s kinda the point.”

“Would it kill them to have something exciting, though? I mean come on, pottery and old stone tablets? _Seen it_. Whoever curates this place should be dragged into the street and shot.”

“Different things are interesting to different people,” said Monique, moving on from the calendars over to a collection of bizarrely themed snow globes. She picked up a rendering of the Sphinx and turned it upside down, generating a tiny sandstorm.

Bonnie dropped the calendar and walked over to join her. She spied movement from the only other person in the room, an old woman affixing price tags to the merchandise, but thought little of it. “Well none of this is interesting to me. Next time _I_ pick the hangout spot.”

“Everything really does have to be your way or the highway, doesn’t it?”

“And what’s the alternative? Let everybody walk all over me? My parents raised me better than that.”

Setting down the snow globe, the other girl shook her head. “There can be a middle ground. Do you know how many times I’ve had to pretend to be into things my friends liked? I’m starting to think you act bossy all the time to cover up for something else.”

“What, you’re my therapist now? My sassy best friend who gives discount life advice?”

“Hell no. I’m just saying, Kim managed to be in charge and still be nice to people. What’s wrong with giving that a shot?”

“Because it’s just not who I am.” She wandered over to the tackier collection of souvenirs, things like dreamcatchers and novelty license plates the size of playing cards. Monique followed. “I was tired of being compared to little miss perfect even when she was here. Can’t _anyone_ shut up about her after she’s been gone two months?”

“She’s just hard to forget.”

Bonnie sighed and slumped her shoulders. “Yeah, I know.”

“Excuse me ladies,” said the old woman she had spied earlier. “If you’re not going to buy anything, I think you should leave.”

Slowly rotating to face her, Bonnie exhaled for five seconds straight. “What did you say?”

“This is a museum gift shop, not a public forum,” said the woman. “If you’re going to have loud, disruptive conversations I suggest you do it outside.”

“Well it’s also not a library,” she fired right back. “And we’re the only ones here. If you don’t want to hear it, don’t eavesdrop.”

The clerk turned and glared hard at Monique. “I saw you putting your hands all over the merchandise, young lady. Were you planning to slip any into your purse?”

“Huh?” Monique backed up reflexively. Bonnie, on the other hand, went nuclear.

“Is that why you were following us around?” she shouted in the outrageously confrontational way that only Bonnie could. “To see if we were going to steal shit that’s worth about as much as something you’d buy from a gumball machine?”

“I know what you young types are like. Always taking things just because you can.”

“I don’t think this is just about us being teenagers,” said Bonnie. “Especially because you asked _her_ if she was planning to steal something instead of both of us.”

“I don’t see what you’re—”

“Why did you single her out? I’m the one who’s been ranting about how much I hate this place for the last five minutes. Is your problem that she’s young, or that she’s young and _black_?”

She appeared taken aback by that, but didn’t deny it.

“You know my dad’s a lawyer? He can slap this place with a discrimination lawsuit so hard it’ll make blood come out your ears.”

The old lady squinted hard but said nothing.

“Besides, who are you to talk about stealing? We’re in a museum! Where do you think the Egyptian exhibit came from?”

By this time the security guard posted by the door noticed the outburst and started moving towards them. Monique grabbed her gingerly by the arm. “We should go.”

“No, I’m not done.” She returned her focus to the old lady. “I know what you’re thinking about her without you having to say it. I recognize that look in your eyes. Well you can shove it. It’s not like we’d steal any of the worthless shit in here anyway.”

“Miss, if you don’t calm down I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the security guard told her.

“Like I wanna stay another minute in your trashy gift store anyway. Come on, Monique.”

In any other situation, Monique would have apologized for her friend’s behavior, but found herself unwilling to do so when she caught the look in the old woman’s eye that Bonnie had mentioned. She glared right back as she walked out the door, trying to convince her heart to stop pounding.

* * *

“Hey Uncle Paul!” Zita shouted as she entered the nearly empty suite in some forgotten strip mall off the highway. The space was covered in cheap carpet, mats, and large ornamental scrolls that were mainly present to give the place atmosphere.

What it was lacking, was people. But she was counting on that.

“All my classes are over for the day,” said Paul Flores, coming out of the back carrying a rag and a bottle of window cleaner.

“I know. I’m just gonna go through some practice forms real quick, maybe a little weapon work. Something to get the edge off.”

“You have an exciting day?” He began wiping down the registration desk, which was made mostly of clear glass. It was strong enough to handle the stresses of the everyday activities here, or at least it had been since an unfortunate accident. This office space had not originally been intended to host a martial arts school.

She didn’t bother changing, heading over to one of the equipment racks and grabbing a pair of small rattan sticks. Though she wasn’t a master by any means, Escrima _was_ part of her heritage, even if her uncle preferred to play up the Mixed Martial Arts angle ever since that had become the latest fad.

“Sort of. A guy tried to set off a bomb in Club Banana.”

The rag slipped, and he practically tumbled over the desk as he overextended. He quickly scrambled back to his feet. “A _bomb_?”

“Not a real one,” she reassured him, beginning a set of moves, slowly at first, to get the rhythm down. “Some kinda soup. He was gonna vandalize the merchandise and make it smell awful or something.”

“But you stopped him?”

Speeding up slightly, she made her way from one end of the mat to the other, brutalizing her imaginary foes as she went. The sticks began to audibly disturb the air, whooshing as she continued to strike.

“Yeah. Grabbed the mall cops while he was bragging like he’d already won. Never understood why supervillains always have to monologue.”

“You didn’t beat him up?”

“Didn’t have to.” She began miming various holds and counters, which used to prove difficult for her due to the lack of anything physical to grab. But she had grown proficient with time. “The guy wasn’t exactly a powerhouse. It would have felt like beating up a nerd for lunch money.”

“Well I know what it’s like to be on one end of that.”

Zita chuckled, finishing her set with dazzling flourish that she would likely never get to employ in a real fight. But it looked impressive, and it felt _great_.

“Didn’t your friend Kim used to handle supervillains?”

She caught her breath a little before replying, returning the sticks to their proper place. “I wouldn’t say we were friends. More like mutual acquaintances. We didn’t really run in the same circles.”

Paul set down the rag and spray bottle and moved closer to the center of the room. “You know, Kim was a student here once.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “She was about eight years old. Her little blond friend too. Ron, was it?”

“Yeah.”

“Anyway, Kim was one of my best learners. And this was back when just saying the word Karate got you a line around the block. I didn’t actually know any martial arts.”

“Really? I thought you had to be licensed or something.”

“Nope! No accreditation needed. Anyone could do it, at least back then.”

“I thought you always knew how to fight.”

Paul shook his head. “I only learned in the last few years.”

“Why? You just said you didn’t really have to.”

“Well, it actually has to do with why they stopped coming to classes here.” He procured a pair of gloves with pads designed to be punched and stood ready as she moved into a low stance.

“Okay, now I gotta know.”

He smiled even as she began quickly jabbing the gloves, followed by a few heavy strikes. She wasn’t heavy enough to put much weight behind them, so she had worked on developing her speed. A fast fighter could be more effective than a strong one, all other things being equal. Of course, the real trick was finding the right balance of both.

“Like I said, it was a long time ago. Back before everybody got lawsuit happy and I had to start making parents sign waivers for their kids.”

She stopped hitting for a moment. “Did something happen?”

“You could say that.”

Zita lashed out with two quick jabs followed by a spin kick. Her foot placement had been getting more accurate the last few weeks, and she struck the glove she was aiming for. Paul stumbled back a couple of steps, but kept his balance.

“Tell me.”

“I put together a sparring tournament so the kids could show their parents what they’d been learning. Honestly, most of the times we’d had sparring before, it ended up just being slap fights and grapples. These were kids, after all.”

“And you didn’t know martial arts.”

Paul hung his head. “And I didn’t know martial arts.”

She kept her wrists locked as she pummeled the gloves some more, pushing her uncle further back. She threw in the occasional elbow or knee strike, borrowing from various disciplines to build her own technique.

“So what happened?”

“I don’t know. Kim beat up a couple of other kids before facing Ron, but when those two fought...”

Zita relented, catching her breath and letting him do the same. “What?”

“It was like a movie. He just ran from her at first, but all of a sudden he started fighting like a master. I know _I_ didn’t teach him those moves. It was more like he knew them all along, and something just... unlocked them.”

She raised an eyebrow. “We’re talking about _Ron_.”

“I was shocked too,” he admitted, putting the gloves away. “Up to that point he was the worst in the class. But he ended up hurting Kim bad enough to give her a concussion.”

“ _Seriously_?”

He nodded.

Zita debated what to do with this information. It wasn’t like she could talk to Kim or Ron to get their take on things. And there was no telling what it would mean even if she did someday get back in contact with them.

“Where were their parents during all this?”

“Doing my job for me,” he said sheepishly. “I just about had a mental breakdown when it happened. Good thing her mother was a brain surgeon, let me tell you. The only one who ended up suing was Mrs. Rockwaller.”

“Wait, _Bonnie’s_ mom?”

“Yeah. Bonnie was there too. She was about to lose to Kim when her mother dragged her out. She was never in my class again after that, but I sure didn’t miss her mother.”

Now _this_ was information she could use. Though considering the rough patch Bonnie had been going through lately, maybe it was better just to hold onto it for later.

“I think I’m done for now,” she said, wiping the sweat off her forehead. “I gotta meet Felix in an hour for dinner. I’ll probably be back tomorrow.” They hugged, and she made for the door.

“Stay safe out there!”

“Sure thing.” She opened the door and raised her hand as an acknowledging gesture before stepping out into the rapidly fading sunlight.

* * *

“Did you do that just so I’d never drag you back here?” Monique asked once she and Bonnie were safely outside.

“Please, like you were gonna do that anyway after I spent the whole time talking about how boring everything was.”

“You do have a way with words.”

“Let’s just go to the mall or something.” She started walking off, but Monique did not follow.

“So that’s it, huh? We’re not gonna talk about this?”

“What’s there to talk about?” She was still moving towards the car. Monique groaned and rolled her eyes, then stomped after her.

“Look, I appreciate you standing up for me in there, but I can deal with some racist old lady following me around a store.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“Yeah, but it ain’t like I need your white ass to save me, either. I can handle myself.”

“If you say so.”

They continued walking in silence until they reached the car. Bonnie slid the keys in the ignition, and Monique slumped down on the other side.

Really, what the hell was Bonnie’s problem? She hadn’t exactly expected her to be thrilled about the museum, but she could have put a little effort in! Now she had all but guaranteed that neither of them would be welcome back in the future.

Although, Monique couldn’t deny that watching Bonnie go off was satisfying on so many levels. Those were things that she had wanted to say many times, but couldn’t because of how people would see her. Bonnie didn’t seem to care about that. She’d never seemed to care if people hated her.

Of course, that wasn’t the truth. Bonnie did care, more deeply than she let on. She hid it with caustic words and a whole lot of bad attitude, but underneath the whole Queen Bee act, she was fiercely devoted to her friends, and would protect them at any cost. She remembered one time that Tara had something slipped in her drink at a school dance, and Bonnie had not only found the perpetrator, but was ready to beat six shades of hell out of him before Mr. Barkin intervened.

And once she had her mind set on something, Bonnie could be unstoppable. Even Kim had been thrown for a loop when Bonnie sold the most chocolate bars and took over as head cheerleader. For about three weeks, but still. That confidence had been shattered after prom, and Monique hadn’t been the only one to see it. It was why she reached out.

But goddamn was Bonnie Rockwaller the most stubborn girl she’d ever met.

They were on the highway by now, heading to the center of the city, towards the mall. Towards a place Bonnie considered safe. Maybe she would get more answers out of her there.

“I’m not white.”

That snapped Monique out of her daze, and she stared inquisitively at the other girl. “Huh?”

“You called me white earlier. I’m not.”

“No offense, but I’ve seen your mom. She’d blend into snow.”

“Have you seen my dad?”

“No. You mixed or something?”

Bonnie briefly glanced over at her, then returned her focus to the road. “Yeah, no shit. You think I got this look from going to tanning salons?”

“Kinda.”

“Well, my dad’s from the Dominican Republic. His parents immigrated here. I can pass as white, but I’m not.”

“Your dad’s name is _Richard Rockwaller_.”

“No, se llama Ricardo.”

Monique blinked. “So you speak Spanish.”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t I know this about you?”

“Never came up. Anyway, he goes by Richard because it made it easier to get callbacks on job interviews. As for the last name, he got it from my mom when they got married. Her side of the family is loaded.”

“Damn. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

She stared out the window for a few seconds. “Is that why you went off back there?”

Bonnie nodded.

“Okay then.” They sat in silence for several moments. “You know, maybe I was wrong about the whole being nice to everyone thing. Sometimes having a raging bull in your corner is what you need. Came in handy against that old bird, anyway.”

The other girl perked up. “Right? Did you see the look on her face?”

“I know! I thought she was gonna have an aneurysm right there!”

They both laughed, longer and louder than either of them had in a long time. At the end of it they were both smiling, and Bonnie didn’t try to disguise it.

“I really misjudged you, Rockwaller. You’re a good friend to have around.”

“I try.” Bonnie tapped her thumbs on the steering wheel. “Are you still looking for someone to go with you to that wrestling thing? I could tag along.”

Monique craned her neck back and tried to ascertain whether she was joking. To her surprise, Bonnie appeared genuine. “You serious?”

“Yeah. Maybe I _could_ pretend to be into the things my friends like once in a while. I might still complain a little, though.”

She laughed. “Good enough for me.”

* * *

“You know, we could have just gone to Bueno Nacho,” said Zita, adjusting a bracelet that looked expensive but wasn’t.

Felix looked up from his menu and smirked. “In that dress? Ridiculous.”

“Hey, I only got dressed up because we came here.”

“Well, you’re my girlfriend and I want to take you to the best places,” he replied. “And Chez Couteaux is the best restaurant in town.”

“And I appreciate it, it’s just... have you _seen_ the prices on this menu?”

“You’re not the only one who got a summer job, remember? My mom pays me enough to help her around the lab that I can cover this no problem.”

“If you say so.”

They perused a menu full of things Zita could barely pronounce, much less decipher what they were supposed to be. This place was too classy to have pictures on the menus. Not too classy for kid’s meals, though.

“What the hell is _Foie Gras_?”

“Duck liver,” said Felix. “It’s pretty good if you can forget that.”

“Pass. Ooh! They have pasta!”

Chez Couteaux wasn’t exclusively a French restaurant, despite the name. Zita spied some Chicken Alfredo that she could set her heart on, provided her boyfriend could foot the bill.

It didn’t end up being a problem when the waiter came by to take their order, leaving them alone for the next several minutes.

“So, tell me about your day,” he said, leaning forward attentively.

“Frugal Lucre tried to bomb Club Banana with soup.”

That took him by surprise. “Wait, really?”

Zita nodded, grabbing a slice of the complementary bread and spreading butter over one side. “Yeah, apparently he escaped from prison a couple months ago and he was planning his revenge on overpriced merch.”

“Isn’t that the guy who threatened to destroy the internet unless everyone sent him a dollar?”

“Yep.”

“And no one got hurt?”

She took a bite of the bread. “Nope. I got the mall cops and Monique and I managed to disarm the device while Bonnie drenched him with a super soaker he’d filled with beef bouillon.”

“Gross.” He began buttering some bread himself. “You know, I wondered when Kim’s old villains would start showing their faces around here again. I’m surprised it was him.”

“Me too. I was expecting someone like Drakken or Dementor.”

“Well, if Motor Ed shows up, give me a call. I’ve helped deal with him a few times.”

“Motor who?”

“Motor Ed. Drakken’s cousin. Long blonde mullet, likes things that go fast. He’s an engineering super genius. Like if Albert Einstein was a mechanic from New Jersey.”

“Einstein was a physicist.”

He shrugged. “I like to keep my references accessible.”

“How’d you get tangled up in that?”

Felix patted his wheelchair. “Well, the first time was just coincidence. I was at a monster truck rally that he raided. But after we locked him up he got obsessed with my chair’s cyber-robotic tech, so he and Drakken stole it, reverse engineered it, and used it to build a super-advanced SUV.”

“He _stole your wheelchair_?”

He shrugged. “We got it back. Plus, he accidentally installed a remote control function that Ron’s wireless controller could tap into, so Kim just button mashed the Doomvee to death.”

Zita cocked an eyebrow. “The _Doom_ vee?”

“That’s what Drakken was calling it.”

“Man, my biggest part in their adventures was getting trapped inside Everlot for a few hours,” she said. “You got to face down an actual supervillain.”

“Well, now so did you.”

“Oh please, Lucre’s barely a criminal. At _worst_ he’s facing a vandalism charge. He didn’t want any money from the store, and he wasn’t even using a real gun!”

“He _did_ escape from prison. I’m guessing they’ll want to put him back there.”

Zita shook her head. “I looked it up. He somehow slipped the mall cops and he’s still at large. Not sure how much of a threat he’ll be.”

“Well, darn. But it’s not like Kim had a perfect record keeping her villains locked up.”

“All she had to do was catch ‘em. Not her fault they kept escaping.”

“Why _do_ they escape so much, anyway? And for that matter why do they just get locked up in jail?”

She took a sip of her water. “What do you mean?”

“I’m taking an AP Political Science class to prep for college next year,” he said. “Here’s the thing. Most of these villains haven’t done much worse than grand larceny, kidnapping, industrial espionage and the occasional attempted murder. Standard felony stuff. But you know how Drakken set loose a robot army on the world last year?”

Zita nodded.

“That’s an act of war. He even invaded the US, where he’s a citizen, which makes it treason. At the very least he should have been charged with terrorism.”

“So?”

“So why did he and Shego just get thrown into general population? Anyone else who pulled that would have been executed, or at least sent to Guantanamo.”

“I don’t think the robots actually killed anybody,” she said. “They just caused a lot of property damage.”

“The lack of casualties doesn’t matter. It’s still an international incident.”

Zita shrugged. “They already had a prison where they’d been locking up supervillains for years. And like you said, none of them ever did anything that serious before.”

“That’s my point. Drakken pushed the envelope, but the response was the same as always. Why is that?”

“You got me.”

“Yeah, I don’t really have the answer either. Food for thought, though.”

She shook her head rapidly to clear it. “I don’t wanna talk about supervillains anymore.”

“Me neither. Oh hey, food’s here.”

The waiter set down their plates and left them in peace, and they proceeded to chow down.

* * *

“Uuuugh,” groaned Zita, cradling her hands over her stomach as they left the restaurant. “Why did you let me eat that whole thing?”

Felix shrugged. “You didn’t want to get a box.”

“You’re my boyfriend. You’re supposed to be my impulse control.”

“Is _that_ why you keep me around?”

“Also so you can give me a ride to the car.”

He laughed. “Hop on.” She slumped into his lap. With his girlfriend secured, Felix fired up the jets on his chair and they hovered over the parking lot in search of Zita’s black sedan.

“Man, this so beats walking.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Her face froze in panic. He laughed it off before she could sputter out how sorry she was.

“It’s okay. I barely remember walking.”

“If you got the chance to walk again, would you take it?”

“Of course. No rule that says I couldn’t still have an awesome chair.”

“It is really awesome. You’re real lucky your mom made you a chair like that instead of a normal one. It’d suck to be stuck in one of those.”

Felix prided himself on being a guy who didn’t get upset over every thoughtless comment. Still, that one wasn’t so easy to laugh off. “Well, I’ve been in a few before. It’s not so bad.”

“Shit, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying it’s good to have someone who can make something so useful it’s almost like you don’t have a disability.”

His smile disappeared. “You say that like my disability’s a bad thing.”

She smacked herself. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

“I know. But still, how you end up phrasing things usually shows how you really feel about them, consciously or not.”

“Again, I’m sorry. I know your disability is part of you and you’ve accepted that. But you just said you _would_ take the chance to walk again.”

“Zita, this is something you really aren’t qualified to talk about,” he said. “I’m not the kind of guy who gets mad over people saying stuff like that. But it hurts hearing it from you.”

She frowned. “So what _should_ I say?”

By now they had reached the car, so he landed and let her down. She fished the keys out of her purse and opened the trunk. Felix’s chair was designed to fold up and fit in any standard size trunk without the need to modify the vehicle to hitch it on the back. Zita helped him into the passenger’s seat, and a minute later they were on the road.

“You haven’t answered me.”

“Huh?”

“I asked you what I should say instead of whatever I said that made you mad.”

Felix shook his head. “Like I said, I don’t get mad over things people say. Just... keep in mind that I’m allowed to say things about my disability that people who aren’t disabled shouldn’t. I’m the one who has to live with it.”

“I’ll try.”

“Do or do not, my young padawan,” he said with the goofiest of grins.

She glared and punched him in the arm even as she cracked a smile of her own.

“So what the heck happened in Everlot last night?” he said, graciously changing the subject. “Nobody’s accused The Crone of hacking yet, but how was that even possible?”

“It’s not hacking,” said Zita. “She did some major power leveling sometime over the last summer. That’s when she appeared and created the raid. No one really knows how she did it.”

“Well, I’ll tell you one thing. She makes the Wraithmaster look like a total noob.”

“Speaking of which, let’s get Malcolm to play with us next time we try it. Larry and Wade, too. We need people we can depend on instead of some pick-up group.”

“Agreed,” he said. “How do we not know who The Crone even is?”

“Actually, I have a theory on that.”

“Yeah?”

“Before we all got roasted last night, I heard a laugh.”

“So did I.”

The light in front of them turned red, and she brought the car to a gradual halt. “It took until earlier today to realize where I’d heard it before.”

“Where?”

“Well, if someone had a particularly embarrassing prank played on them, say like getting Icy Hot in their gym clothes, what’s the first sound you’d hear in that situation?”

He considered that. “Didn’t that happen to one of the cheerleaders last year?”

“Yeah. And do you remember who was behind it?”

“They never found out.”

“But who was the first one to laugh?”

His eyes went wide as he connected the dots. “Bonnie.”

“Exactly.”

The light turned green and she began to accelerate. Behind them, the rest of the column of vehicles started to follow. The car in the lane next to them zipped by, unaware that this was not a race.

“But that’s impossible. Bonnie’s like, the Alpha Jock.”

“She _was_ , until she lost a ton of face at prom,” Zita pointed out. “She even had to get an after school job. She’s not at the top of the food chain anymore. I’ve seen less extreme social spirals drive someone to gaming.”

“Yeah, but she’s not a nerd.”

“I thought so too. But you know my Uncle Paul?”

He nodded.

“I saw him earlier today, and he told me Bonnie was in one of his classes when she was like, eight.”

“Bonnie learning Kung Fu? I have to admit, I never considered that.”

Zita took a hard right at the intersection, and the g-forces swayed them to the left.

“What if, under all that Queen Bee attitude, she’s got a whole bunch of secret interests that no one knows about?”

“It’s interesting, I’ll give you that. But how does it explain how impossibly powerful The Crone is?”

“Well, when have you known Bonnie to settle for second best? If she does something, she has to do it perfectly or it’s not worth doing.”

“Okay, I’m sold. But how do we prove it? It’s not like we can just ask her.”

Zita shrugged. “We get to the end of the raid. She’s gotta show her face at some point.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. There are any number of excuses I could make, but the truth is I just lost interest in this story for a long time. I honestly have no idea how long it will take before I update again. Hopefully this offers enough to tide you over.
> 
> I wanted to accomplish a few things with this chapter, namely showing the inevitable consequences of a world without Kim. What happened to her? Is she still alive? Is she coming back? Those are questions that Middleton would be asking, as well as the most important one: who could take her place?
> 
> I also wanted to make it clear that I’m not “softening” Bonnie like so many fanfics that make her a more fleshed out character tend to do. She has rage and pride and a whole lot of attitude, which can be helpful in a situation where confrontation is called for. It’s what makes her Bonnie. That doesn’t mean she can’t have other emotions, and I tried to show more than one side of her.
> 
> Zita ended up occupying much more of this chapter than I originally intended. She’s fascinating to expand upon because the series left so much of her backstory blank. I ended up focusing a lot of it on her gaming, but I also took the opportunity to reintroduce the martial arts instructor from that other story I had you guys read based on the fact that I coincidentally gave him the same last name. Hey, no one ever said Zita didn’t know martial arts. She just wasn’t interested in using them to save the world.
> 
> We’re gonna spend two more chapters in Middleton before we get back to Kim and Ron. The plot needs to thicken just a little bit.
> 
> Please review this so I didn’t spend all this time writing for nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a rewrite of one of my older stories and morphed into something mostly new. I'm taking things in a new direction, and changing up the ships a bit because I could never make it work in the original version. In terms of timeline, this takes place three months after the movie So The Drama and serves as an alternate season 4.
> 
> The ships are, for the record, Kim/Yori and Ron/Shego. Just so none of you come whining to me later.
> 
> This prologue and the first two chapters are more or less in their final form, which is why I'm publishing them now otherwise I'm afraid they'll just rot on my hard drive forever. The response to this fic will dictate the urgency with which I finish the other chapters. I have at least six of them planned out so far. Thanks to Ffordesoon for beta reading what I've written so far. Really couldn't have done this without you, dude.
> 
> I've been in KP fandom long enough that certain tropes have started to annoy me, and I'm deliberately defying them in this story. A lot of fics that focus on Ron's Mystical Monkey Power tend to go the route that "Graduation" did, making him this all-powerful demigod who can crush armies and not treating that as something absolutely terrifying and potentially uncontrollable. I'm taking things in a different direction, as you've probably gathered.
> 
> In the meantime, let me know what you think!


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